The Second Test
by Psychicninja90
Summary: His first test as a hero is behind him. The Man of Steel must now face new challenges in a changing world.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from the DC universe. The characters I created are mine.**

**A/N: To anyone who read the prologue and is wondering where it went, I took it out. I decided it didn't really fit the story. Anyway, this is my first story and I hope you enjoy it. **

**Chapter 1 **

Clark opened his eyes.

He felt the satin sheets and heard Lois' breathing and realized he had been in his bed the entire night. An unusual occurrence for him, as he was normally up well before Lois was awake or he came to bed long after she had fallen asleep. His normal wasn't normal after all.

For the typical citizen of the great city of Metropolis daily struggles usually consisted of minor annoyances like finding the best coffee dealers, dodging traffic, and trying to hail a taxi. But Clark Kent was not a typical citizen. His struggles pushed and pulled him across the globe at all hours of the day. He saw the horrors and triumphs of humanity and then he wrote about it for his work. His minor annoyances were being in the middle of a movie, or in the middle of an investigation, or in the middle of a make-out session with Lois, or basically being in the middle of anything and having to leave. This had been his life for the past six months.

And he loved it.

Every minute he was out saving people he knew he was fulfilling his destiny. There was the pause button on the DVD player and the story would always be there, interruptions be damned. And Lois...She was probably the most understanding and supportive partner he could have ever wished for. She was the anchor to his ship in a wind tossed sea. She was the wind in his sails. The energizing sun on his face. Because of her his days were adventurous and somehow also tranquil, whether he was wearing the cape or not.

Still he enjoyed the quiet moments. These were the moments where he could remember no matter the scale of his struggles for so many reasons, he was truly blessed.

Like the night before. He had stopped a couple of robberies, a handful of fires, and a hoax suicide from an enamored fan-girl that turned into a real rescue when she slipped and almost fell off the roof of her apartment building. So a relatively slow night for him. As such, he was able to spend most of the evening with Lois in their apartment. They spent the night enjoying authentic Chinese food, Die Hard, and a late night flight around the city. It was an unexpected treat for the both of them.

Staring at Lois' sleeping face, he smiled warmly.

Their relationship had blossomed ever since their kiss during the battle with Zod. A relationship that hadn't been easy since its inception. Everyone was up in arms about Lois and the 'Super-Kiss' as it was dubbed by tabloids; and the internet nearly exploded from all the traffic the pictures garnered. Eventually it all died down to a heat of the moment adrenaline induced impulse no one could really blame her for. However if gossip rags were fresh out of their usual celebrity fodder they would throw it out in trying to boost sales, but word in the bullpen was that Lois had a new beau: the freshmen stringer, Clark Kent.

Although they tried to keep it a secret initially, the sexual tension between them was palpable and so, was obvious to the bullpen. In fact there was a poll about when they would finally kiss. However, it still took some time and a few secret rendezvous in the copy room before Lois and Clark came out to the office officially as a couple. The announcement resolved the poll and relentless gossip, and made it plain to the office staff that unequivocally Lois Lane liked the nerdy type as a steady boyfriend instead of the god-like.

Unbeknownst to them, Clark Kent and Superman were the same person. A secret Clark found an irreplaceable partner in Lois in keeping. A person outside of the situation might wonder what would possess the incognito superhero to work in a place where people were paid to ferret out truths, but Clark believed that it was the perfect cover. He could hide in plain sight while keeping an ear out for disasters, while having a completely legitimate reason to bear witness to a variety of events. An ingenious plan in theory, but the practice part was a bit rough at first.

His sudden hiring roused some people's suspicions and his resemblance to their new resident superhero were disconcerting to some. He was turning heads both as a rising journalist and as a good-looking man. His finesse with prose proved him to be a talented writer and cemented the legitimacy of his employment at the Planet. It was his face that was the problem. Glasses aside, he still kinda looked like Superman.

"You disappear an awful lot, Clark. What, are you putting out fires?" they would say nervously laughing, but eyeing him a little too closely for his comfort. So then he would spill his coffee and any thoughts of his uncanny likeness to the Man of Steel were laughed away while he and Lois shared a private glance.

With the help of Lois, he finally found a rhythm and persona where he didn't fall completely into the background, but he didn't stand out too much either despite his robust stature. Simply he emphasized certain aspects of his personality in both the glasses and the cape. As Clark Kent, he was mild-mannered and often less sure-footed than his caped counterpart who was confident, commanding, and graceful. Often Lois told him that she found his clumsiness and bookishness endearing.

"Give me a nerd with glasses any day." She would say before kissing him squarely on the lips. Eventually he became so confident in his super-secret security that he even joined in on the joke that he looked a bit like Superman.

So his extracurricular activities were running smoothly with his day job and thanks to Lois, he always had help in thinking of an excuse for his sudden comings and goings, which he loved. He loved that he got to see her everyday in her element and that he was a part of it without smothering her. And he loved that he was able to share with her something so vital to him. His life was actually kind-of normal. Something that he wasn't accustomed to.

Most of his life he had drifted in and out of places and identities with very little notice. Now it was different; people cared about him here. For the first time he didn't have to endure uncomfortable smiles and sideways glances. People laughed at him, but they undoubtedly respected him as a person and a journalist. And although he technically had three identities, he felt that the amalgamation made a whole person. He was Clark, Kal, and Superman, even though very few people knew that.

It was okay though. He felt safe, and for once he actually belonged somewhere.

After spending an uneventful morning with Lois, they arrived at work early. His morning coffee was fresh and Lois got a chance to go over her notes before the daily staff meeting. Since it was so easy-going this morning, he couldn't explain why his stomach was knotted and his body was tense. Usually when things started going right for him, something awful was about to happen. He did not eagerly await the revelation, but unfortunately, it arrived within a few minutes of the start of the weekly staff meeting.

"Cat, I'm rejecting your story about Superman as a security threat."

"Perry!" A woman with cropped blonde hair jumped out of her seat in outrage.

"Catherine, your prose was weak and didn't present any evidence to support your thesis. I can't run an article like this," he explained calmly.

"No evidence? What about the fact that the 'Superman' caused damage right along with the invaders? Or that he refuses to divulge his identity to the authorities? Also there are several reputable sources that agree the 'Superman' threatens our national and global security."

Perry sighed exasperated.

"'_The_ Superman?'" Lois whispered.

Clark chuckled to himself. Cat was one of the few people at the Daily Planet who didn't care for Superman, but trying to share that obsessive dislike with the rest of Metropolis was a new trend. When he had started working, she could be heard, _loudly,_ debasing the super hero with a few coworkers who smiled uncomfortably. Generally she had been a harmless annoyance. Clark respected free speech (he was a reporter after all), but he also believed in manners. Having an opinion was one thing; having the discretion and grace to know when and how to share it was another.

Until a few weeks ago, she had never tried to put anything in print. Then almost abruptly she started with her article about Superman's threat to security, which she had attempted to convince Perry of printing ever since. Obviously, anything to do with Superman was important to him, but he was also curious about who these reputable sources were. Opening his mouth to ask, he was cut off by someone else.

"Who is that exactly?"

Everyone turned to see a slim Asian woman with steely grey eyes standing with regal confidence. Her ebony hair was swept up in an elegant ponytail and she was holding a legal pad in her hand. Clark had never seen her before and judging from the staff's confused stares, neither had they.

Slightly bewildered Cat did not immediately respond. To cause that to happen was an impressive feat from anyone, but within a few seconds, she had gathered herself.

"Senators Francis and Clay-" Cat started.

"Those two?" the woman asked with thinly veiled derision. "They and their friends have had it in for Superman the moment he showed up in his cape. And no matter how much they dislike Superman, they don't have any legal recourse. Even with their lame attempts at labelling him a terrorist. Besides any action against Superman would be political suicide what with his 96% approval rating. That's higher than our President's. Not to mention Superman's allies in the United States Armed Forces, as well as the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of State, and the President himself. Your 'story' would be nothing but an opinion piece that will displease consumers and damage the reputation of the Daily Planet," the woman replied dryly.

"He doesn't have a 96% approval rating. Since his arrival we have had terrorist attacks beyond our atmosphere. More and more vigilantes are coming out, undermining the rule of law. And it's all because of him." Cat hissed, as she pointed emphatically at a framed copy of the Daily Planet.

"Hope Arrives" was emblazoned on the headline of the first picture taken of Superman and the first article about him written by Lois Lane. It was the first article written after the Daily Planet's reconstruction (which miraculously happened in 3 weeks). The day that paper sold was the best business that the Daily Planet had seen in years, and thus was framed among the other more well-known editions a few weeks ago. It was possible that the immortalizing of that article was what had sparked Cat's crusade against the Man of Steel to go from word of mouth to pen and paper. It was hard to tell however. As a sign of protest she had never acknowledged it until that moment.

"You have no evidence that Superman is linked to any of the masked vigilantes," she parried easily with a lazy swipe of her hand.

Clark furrowed his brow. She was right: he wasn't linked to any of them. But even he noticed that after his first test as Earth's savior, more heroes had come out of the shadows. As his goal was to inspire humanity, he considered it a triumph. It just wasn't what he had expected. The individuals of which the current discussion entailed were remarkable people with abilities that Clark had originally believed to be impossible for humans. He smiled a little to himself. This world constantly amazed him.

"So I don't have evidence per se, but it's still an important story."

"A story that could get the Daily Planet sued for libel."

Cat narrowed her eyes, an odd smile on her face. "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. My name is Kassandra Lee-Ahn. I am the new legal consultant to the Daily Planet. I also write the legal column here." She replied smoothly.

"Well, Kass_and_ra-"

"Kassandra. Ah-n-dra."

"Whatever. Anyway, you're new here, so I'll give you some leg room. But you don't tell me what to write."

"But I do," Perry interjected sternly. "Catherine, I'm sorry, but she was making my point exactly. My decision is final; I'm not printing this."

Perry handed the paper to Catherine who snatched it away, her face pinched in disdain. She sat down in a huff and pouted. There was an awkward silence where everyone stared at each other until Perry started speaking again.

"Although I'm sure you gathered as much from that little display, we have a new addition to our staff. I would like you to meet Kassandra Lee-Ahn. She's going to be working on our legal team."

There was a smattering of applause and 'nice to meet you's' from the rest of the staff. Clark could see Lombard staring at her and wondered if he should warn her. Though considering how she handled Catherine he figured she could thwart Lombard's advances with ease.

"Alright, that's enough. So now that we're all acquainted, let's continue with the assignments."

The meeting continued on without incident. Both Cat and Kassandra were silent for the rest of the meeting and no one else spoke unless they asked a question about a specific story. Assignments were given out like normal and they were promptly dismissed. While gathering his notes, Clark had the distinct feeling of being watched. Turning slightly, he was startled to see Kassandra staring at him in what only could be described as barely concealed disbelief. He made eye contact and smiled. She smiled briefly and left the room. Hardly moved by her astonishment, he decided to introduce himself. Most people felt that when they saw him for the first time. All he had to do was put on a little show and the idea of him as Superman would be put to rest.

Despite his confidence though, he felt something was off. Just a feeling, a tingle in the back of his mind about Kassandra. Regardless, he wanted to introduce himself. If she could handle Cat so easily, he imagined they would get along just fine.

In full Clark Kent mode, he walked up to her desk being careful to knock over a pencil holder as he went and cleared his throat. After a beat, she raised her eyes. Her face showed the slightest hint of surprise as her hands stopped momentarily. And she looked around as if he were addressing someone else. Satisfied she was the object of his attention, she turned her eyes back to him although she resumed typing on the keyboard. Upon closer inspection, he realized that her eyes were grey with specks of blue in them. He found them unusual.

"Hi. I just wanted to introduce myself. I know what it's like to be the new person and I thought I should extend a welcome to you. My name is Clark Kent." He stuck his hand out with a bright grin.

Smiling a little, she shook his hand, but she continued to stare him in the eyes. The action was discomfiting. "Thank you. That's very kind of you. Certainly better than the welcome I got from...," She scrunched her face, thinking.

"Catherine. Yeah, she's...something," Clark said slowly.

She chuckled. "Yeah she really doesn't like Superman," she said, her hands clacking away on her laptop, her eyes now roving over his face.

"Well, she's entitled to her opinion," Clark stared at her fingers for a few seconds, trying to ignore her appraisal of him.

"She's not entitled to be a bitch," she countered.

Clark's eyebrows shot up. He didn't want to say anything bad about Catherine, but she could definitely be cantankerous and overtly hostile to his alter-ego. Years of verbal abuse made him a little defensive about this aspect of his life. But in spite of himself, he sometimes thought she had a point. His battle with Zod and his cohorts had caused a lot of damage and he didn't do the best job in mitigating the destruction. The guilt of the carnage was something he would have to live with for the rest of his life. Including the grisly ending. He would never deny that his abilities could be dangerous, but he would like to believe that he could help humanity. If only Cat and others like her could see that. Clark held out hope that she would eventually accept him, but he wouldn't make it his main focus. No matter what he did, there would always be critics and detractors. There would always be people who hated him. That was a truth he had to live with as well, no matter how difficult it would be for him to accept. But he took comfort from the fact that there would always be people who believed in him. Like Kassandra. Her defense of Superman was touching. So regardless of her blunt gregariousness and disconcerting stare, he decided he liked Kassandra.

"You seem to really support Superman."

"Who in their right mind wouldn't? The man is a global hero. He sacrificed everything to save us, so defending him is the least I can do." She spoke easily, but her eyes were lit with passion and her fingers finally stopped.

Clark felt humbled. He had never spoken to someone with such an ardor for Superman. Except Lois. He was lost in thought until he heard the clicking of keys resume.

"How are you doing that?" he said a little dumbly.

"I'm really good at dividing my attention," she replied with the first genuine smile he had seen from her. "It was nice to meet you Clark."

Clark mumbled "you too" as he distractedly walked away, so much so he wasn't pretending when he ran into the mail cart. He mumbled apologies, thoroughly roused from his personal universe and quickly went back to his desk. Lois looked at him questioningly.

"What did she say?" she whispered.

"Uh-"

Clark was at a loss for words. Although she hadn't said anything strange, Clark felt a knot form in his stomach and his heart was only then returning to a normal rate. Her mannerisms were a little off, but other than that she was perfectly agreeable. To him at least. Also his performance in his opinion was spot on and should have negated any suspicions she held about him. So it made no sense that there was still a niggling at the back of his mind.

"I think we should talk about it at home," he finally said.

Lois looked a little concerned, but otherwise didn't press the matter. Regardless of the rough start, the day went on as usual, but the whole time Clark couldn't shake the feeling that there were grey-blue eyes watching him.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Updated.**

**Chapter 2**

"Are you alright? You've been up in the clouds all night," Lois asked caressing his hair.

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. No natural disasters, no big crimes the police couldn't handle, not even a cat stuck in a tree. In their apartment, Clark and Lois sat watching the news, although Clark wasn't really encapsulated. Ever in tune with his mood, Lois had flicked off the news and turned to her boyfriend.

He had been up in the clouds. Today's confrontation lead him to the same thought path he often travelled when he was faced with criticism. During his battle with Faora she had been absolutely right he was weak and unsure of himself. Although six months of constant saves and general approval did wonders for his self-assurance as a hero, there was still that small nugget of uncertainty he held in his heart. Was he truly a hero? Could humanity ever trust him completely? Should they? Often when he voiced his thoughts Lois completely contested every doubt. Gratitude abounded, but he wondered if she was a little biased considering he had saved her life more than a few times and they were in a relationship. If he were to improve himself as a hero, he needed an opinion that wasn't coated with love for him.

And then there was Kassandra. She was intelligent, quick-witted, and generally friendly. Clark liked her, but for some reason, didn't completely trust her. Nothing verbal in their five-minute conversation invited suspicion; it was her eyes. The way they had traced every contour of his face as if she was a kind of facial recognition software made him feel disconcerted and less confident in his ability to play the role prescribed to him. Ironically this lack of confidence actually bolstered his 'Clark Kent' performance as her eyes' constant presence he could feel. Thus he was a little more distracted and more accident prone than usual.

Clark turned to Lois who was patiently waiting for him to start. Knowing the script of the conversation involving Cat, he decided to start with the easy part of his day.

"I was thinking about what Cat said today.

Lois sighed exasperated. "Clark, she's all hot air and you know that."

"Yeah, but she has a point."

"Clark, how many times do we have to go over this?"

"I _did_ cause a lot of damage Lois. I _did_ endanger the lives of thousands of people."

"You also saved billions of people. Not to mention the millions of other animal and plant species on this planet," she said adamantly.

"I'm just saying I can understand why some people can write me off as a terrorist or a threat. I am very powerful," he said.

"I know. So powerful that you could hold the world under your boot, but you don't because you're a _good person._"

Clark took a deep breath and stretched his hands on his knees.

"Now are you ready to talk about the real problem?"

He looked at her surprised. Underestimating her ability to read him was a mistake he didn't often make.

"What is it?" she asked gently.

"Kassandra. When I talked to her-" Clark stopped, unsure of how to continue.

"What did Kassandra say?"

"That's the thing. She didn't say anything strange or insulting."

"I don't understand," she asked obviously confused.

He didn't understand either. "Does Kassandra seem a little off to you?"

She bit her lip thoughtfully. "She's a little mysterious. I like how she tore into Cat, but I don't know her. On paper she seems on the up and up."

"On paper. What does your journalistic instinct say?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, Clark. She seems normal."

Clark sighed. "When I was talking to her, she kept staring at my face."

"Well, Clark you do have a nice face." She chuckled a little bit. Clark couldn't help but smile.

"Not like that. Like she was studying it. Like she recognized me."

Worry replaced the mirth in Lois' eyes. "Do you think she knows who you are?"

Clark looked away for a moment. It had been a long-standing fear of his that was now shared with Lois. They hadn't discussed what they would do if someone discovered the truth. Frankly he had hoped to stall that conversation. Their relationship was new and he wanted to enjoy the honeymoon period while it lasted.

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

"That settles it then. We'll keep an eye on her to see if she does or says anything else suspicious. And I'll look into her background," Lois said with a small smile.

He felt as though a weight was lifted from his chest. He didn't know how he handled his secret without her. It was so much easier having another person in his corner, someone to support him and help him protect his dire secret. If the press found out about his alternate identity, his daily annoyances would increase a hundred-fold, but nothing compared to the hell that might happen to his family if a disgruntled felon he helped nab got wind of this sensitive information.

"I don't know what I would do without you." _I love you._ He wanted to say it so badly, but he sensed that it was too early. Instead he would show her his feelings: he kissed her. She deepened the kiss, as they kissed long and slow. Clark's hands found her hips and slid up to her back. Suddenly and disappointingly, she pulled away.

"Mmm, in the meantime we should start on our story," she purred.

He sighed.

"I suppose you're right. I suppose it is my job. Best to keep up appearances," he said between kissing her neck. She chuckled as she reluctantly extricated herself and flipped open her laptop.

* * *

><p>It was happening again.<p>

It was the same place and time and they were both in their roles reliving that macabre moment.

"If you love these people so much, you can mourn for them!" A thrill of fear shot through Clark. He knew what Zod was going to do before he acted. A beam of heat shot out of Zod's eyes towards the defenseless family. Clark watched the cowering family as the beam inched closer and closer. He couldn't do anything. He had Zod captured, but he couldn't move; Zod was as immovable as his choice was inevitable. "Don't do this!" Clark begged.

"Never!" Zod answered darkly.

"Stop!" he pleaded with tears stinging his eyes. It was futile. Closing his eyes, Clark's limbs acted out of desperation as they snapped the neck of the only other member of his race. The thud of Zod's body on the ground was all he registered. It broke him. A terrible, searing pain ripped through his heart until it escaped as a strangled defeated cry.

"Clark!" The next thing he knew someone was shaking him awake. "Clark! You're dreaming, honey."

His breath was haggard and interspersed with sobs. He felt Lois' arms around him and leaned into the comfort.

"It's okay. It's okay," she whispered as she gently stroked his hair. They shared a look. Her eyes filled with love and comfort. His eyes were filled with shame. A silent conversation passed between them. Clark knew how it ended, but he also knew the truth: it would never be okay.

In her eyes he could see the dissent there. But instead of words, she laid his head on her chest just above her heart. Focusing only on that sound, he tried to fall back asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Updated.**

**Chapter 3 **

Clark tiptoed quietly through his and Lois' apartment with a paper bag of maple donuts in his teeth and two coffees in his hands. After being jostled awake by his nightmare, he couldn't fall back asleep, and had snuck out to patrol the city and the world. Not needing as much sleep as a human was helpful on nights like last night, but Clark preferred to stay with Lois when he could and so did she. For that reason, the donuts and coffee were a peace-offering. Deciding the donuts would keep, he carefully set their breakfast on the table and slunk back to the room he shared with her. But instead of finding her in the bed, he found her asleep atop her laptop at her desk. Lois could never fall asleep of her own will after being woken. She must have decided to make her insomnia productive. Feeling guilty, he picked her up and lain her on their bed.

Gently he moved a stray strand out of her face and Clark was transfixed by her in that moment. Her red hair was tousled and strewn across her pillow, a serene look was on her face as her chest slowly rose and fell. The light from the early morning caressed her face gently; highlighting ever freckle and imperfection that she hated and Clark adored. She was angelic.

Looking at her so peaceful and beautiful, he wondered like he often did how he got to this point. Six months ago he was a drifter with no real connection to the world except for his mother, but even she couldn't bring him home. Alone without an identity or a place, he was nothing and no one on this earth. A faceless shadow that was occasionally some help. And he thought it was best that way. Maybe he didn't deserve to have a normal life; maybe it was his destiny to stay alone forever.

Then out of nowhere, a nosy, beautiful reporter came into his life who not only easily discovered his secret (which he couldn't decide if he was impressed or alarmed by), but believed in him so completely from the beginning that she kept it even when her freedom was threatened. That faith in him lead to his faith in humanity. If it hadn't been for her, he wouldn't have been able to save the world. If it hadn't been for her, he wouldn't have a place there. If it hadn't been for her, he would have never left that train station.

Without her, he would never move on from it. He knew this. She saved him as much as he had saved her. And then she loved him. She loved all of him! This was the strangest thing. Instead of balking or recoiling in revulsion, she accepted his alien heritage. It seemed she saw it as more like an endearing quirk rather than an obstacle to overcome or "something to get used to." When she looked at him she didn't see an outsider, she saw a man.

He wished then that he could give her everything she wanted. He wished that he could give her a normal life. Perhaps he had built up enough karma to deserve someone like her. Maybe it was all in the Universe's grand and mysterious design. But for whatever reason he was given this chance, the Universe would not go unthanked. He had only met a few people with her capacity for love and acceptance and she was opening up a world full of those people to him. She was astounding in everything she did, flaws and all. Even at his lowest point, she was there for him.

**After the Train Station**

Two weeks, 1 day, and 5 hours. That's how long it had been since he had last seen her. Two weeks, 1 day, and 5 hours since she comforted him after the horror he had done. He didn't even know if she would want to see him after what he did. He wouldn't blame her. She had stood there stroking his hair, insisting that there was nothing he could have done. Zod would never stop, she had said, you saved the world. A part of him knew she was right. Zod gave him no other recourse, but in that heart wrenching moment when he crossed that line, he vowed never to cross it again. He couldn't; he wouldn't be that monster.

But no matter how understanding Lois had been, in his shame he had remained distant from her. He busied himself with cleaning up the city and fixing his mother's house; telling himself that was the only reason he hadn't called or contacted her in any way. Justifying it more legitimately with the looming threat of military surveillance, he thought he was doing the right thing. The military, he was worried, was watching her.

Before, they had sent drones to discover his home. He fixed that. But despite his conversation with General Swanwick, Clark doubted the United States government would trust him so easily. He figured that they would want to learn his identity at any cost. Although he couldn't blame them, it was distressing. And it angered him that they might involve Lois again. She wasn't his only concern, however.

The fact that Zod attacked Smallville had placed the sleepy town under suspicion and under the microscope of the FBI, CIA, and other government agencies he didn't even know existed. When he learned of the government officials canvassing the place he had been concerned at first, until they didn't find anything. And not for lack of trying. The agents questioned everyone (including his mother) and the town remained silent. No one told about the flying man who looked uncannily like a once local boy, or about the mysteries that had always surrounded that boy. It seemed that Smallville had circled their wagons around Clark without him even asking. And it wasn't just that. No resident of Smallville blinked at the overnight reconstruction of the damaged town. Nor did they opine on the suddenly new roof of the Kent homestead. When Clark passed them on the street to get groceries for his Mom or stopped to get some gas, people would tip their hats and smile, some of them even shook his hand. Of course there was still staring, but that was expected considering everything that had happened. He _did_ crash through the town wearing a red and blue skin-tight suit and cape. While flying. Even with their knowledge of his strangeness, they were probably taken aback by that. And there were other obvious things that justified a few sidelong glances. Still their behavior caused a strange ambivalence. His whole life that town had suspected him and shunned him as an outcast; only accepting his presence because of the general respect for the Kent family. And now they wanted to protect him. He was both bewildered by the sudden change of heart and extremely grateful.

Regardless of their sudden acceptance of Clark, he knew the military and the government wouldn't stop in Smallville. Especially when they already knew someone who was privy to his secret. Lois was...he wanted to be with her. He was a danger to her, he knew. But he had to see her and to comfort himself he had scanned the entire apartment building to be sure there was no surveillance equipment, which was surprisingly absent. He was relieved, but suspicious. Perhaps General Swanwick had convinced his superiors to leave him alone. Or maybe they just hadn't acted on their concerns yet.

But risk or no, he wanted to see her. Needed to, really. Like the force that tried to swallow him into the Phantom Zone, but stronger and something to which he would willingly surrender, there was a pull between them that he couldn't quite explain. He knew that love in fairy tales wasn't real. That true love was a small hot flame carefully tended over a long time, but this feeling was too _real_ to be just friendship. This gravitational power between them was unbelievable. With her, it was almost like destiny. And the tether tying them together wouldn't allow him to stray for long.

So there he was, wearing a baseball cap and loose clothes, standing outside her apartment door drumming up the courage to knock. For God's sake, he was Superman! He could take on an alien military force under apocalyptic duress, but he couldn't knock on a door? Clark shook his head to clear it. Nerves were not his thing. But Lois made him do all sorts of crazy things like thinking about moving in together, marrying her, and having lots of curly-haired, green-eyed children with her. But he was getting ahead of himself. He shook his head again. If he really wanted that, small steps should be taken. Like knocking on her door.

Hesitating only slightly, he knocked once. There was a beat. Nothing happened. He knocked again, this time a little harder. Again nothing happened. Feeling a little defeated, he sighed. Maybe she saw him through the peephole and decided to pretend she wasn't home.

"Clark?" a wonderfully familiar voice asked.

He turned just in time to see her running to him, groceries forgotten on the floor. She kissed him then with longing and something that felt a lot like love. Maybe she felt that pull too. Lifting her off the ground, he deepened the kiss. For a moment they were the only two people in the whole world. The happiness bubbled inside of him. So much so he felt his feet leave the floor. But reality knocked from the cool side of his brain reminding him they were in the hallway of her apartment building and he was hovering about a foot of the ground. He landed, laughing awkwardly and placed her down gently. They separated, collected her discarded food, and went into her apartment. When they got inside, they just stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before they embraced again though with less urgency this time.

"I missed you Lois," he said into her hair. "I'm sorry that I didn't call-"

His apology was cut off by her lips this time savoring his taste.

"I know," she said. "But you've been everywhere you needed to be."

"Not everywhere," he said softly as he caressed her face. After so long, now that he was with her, the need to touch her was overwhelming and thank God for his eidetic memory, because he wanted to memorize everything about her; this woman who stood by and helped him save the world and himself. She smiled. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes," he rumbled his thoughts meandering to a warmer place in his brain.

Her smile grew wicked. "I meant for food, but we could always eat after."

How he wanted to just rip the clothes off her body, but the cool part of his brain said that they should talk, they shouldn't rush things. Really we just met, it said. He sighed internally. That cool part was right.

"No, you're right. Besides we should talk," he said putting her at arm's length. If he was going to focus, he couldn't be touching her.

Her brows knit together. "Is this a good talk?"

"I don't know, but it's one we need to have." He looked around uncomfortably. She leaned against the counter waiting for him to start.

"Lois, I've missed you the past few weeks...," he began, but thought that 'missed' wasn't the right word. It was stronger and scarier than that. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. I want to be with you." His voice was stilted as if he was struggling to hold himself back.

"Clark, I want the same thing," Lois responded passionately. Clark's heart soared, it was everything that he wanted, but he was afraid then about what he had to say next.

"You have no idea what that means to me, but Lois, I don't know if this can happen."

Her eyes filled with confusion and hurt. "What?"

"I'm a burden and a threat. If we're together, your life will never be normal." He tried to sound resolute.

"Normal is overrated," she countered.

"Your life and privacy would be in jeopardy."

"I'm Lois Lane. My privacy doesn't exist. Besides everyone knows I was there during the invasion." She shrugged.

"I already put you in enough trouble. I won't allow you to be placed in any more danger."

She crossed the expanse between them and kissed him with all her passion on display. Clark was taken aback, but gladly accepted this contact. Despite his insistence they remain apart, he would be lying if he said this wasn't the desired outcome. The idea of Lois not being a constant in his life made his heart feel like it was in a vice. He felt weak. He _needed _her, but it was because he needed her, because he- it was way too early for that word, but it was true—he loved her, that he knew they couldn't be together. If anything happened to her, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. But regardless of his protests, the hopeful part of his heart warred with him. The kissing really didn't help his resolve.

"Clark, I was in plenty of danger before you came around," Lois said breathlessly, their noses still touching.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" he joked lamely nuzzling her nose with his. He swallowed deeply as he had a feeling what was coming.

"Clark, I want to be with you. When I'm with you, I feel-" Unable or unwilling to continue she kissed him again, though more softly. "I can't not have you in my life. Please don't think that I don't know what I'm getting into. I know it's going to be hard sometimes, but this-" she gestured between the two of them, "is rare and real and it's worth it."

"What if I can't give you everything you deserve?" he asked with vulnerable eyes piercing hers.

It was one of those moments where he remembered what he was. Although he was finally at peace with his heritage there were times when he would think that he may never be completely a part of this world. And that he wouldn't share in the things so many people took for granted. A relationship, a job, a legacy. He hadn't enough time to ask his father before the command key was destroyed, but Clark had always wondered if he could have children. She looked at him knowingly.

"Why don't I decide what I deserve?"

"Lois-" She interrupted him again with a hard kiss to his mouth. "Stop fighting us, Clark."

This time he was the one who kissed her.

He kissed her eyes and her mouth, until he moved down to the soft flesh of her neck, his hands gliding up her waist until he dared touch the underside of her breasts with his thumbs. He felt her pull away and begin to tug him. Delirious, he obliged. Before he knew it, she had led them into her bedroom. Before crossing the threshold, he looked into her eyes to ask her one more time if she was sure. She took his hand and placed it over her heart, then did the same with her hand over his heart, then kissed him, not with fiery passion, but with deep affection.

* * *

><p>6 months, 2 weeks, and 1 day since he knew he loved her. 6 months, 2 weeks, and 1 day since he decided that no matter how long or how difficult it would be, he would show her how grateful he was for her. No matter what happened, he would remind her everyday how he felt about her.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 **

Sitting at his desk, he had a perfect vantage point for viewing people, which meant that he sat right along the aisle from Perry's office. It was interesting to say the least. Often he saw people with a variety of emotions, but they all fell on a spectrum of elation and anger. If he thought a story was not worthy of print, Perry could be very blunt. Not that he wasn't right, but Perry wasn't one to sugarcoat his criticisms. Or to be delicate when firing employees.

Some of the terminated employees cried, a few were quite congenial. In fact there was one young man who worked for one month and was late every day. He was a good writer, but rarely punctual and generally disrespectful. However when Perry fired him, Clark heard him distinctly say: "I would've fired me sooner."

There existed however, more volatile displays from the recently unemployed reporters. Clark hadn't worked there long enough to witness these episodes of angry irrational behavior, but Lois told him stories. There was a young woman who decided to cuss Perry out and threaten him until security had to escort her out. Then there was the last stringer (whose job Clark had filled) who got so mad at Perry he threw a trash can through his window.

Those incidents were rare, though. Every long-term employee at the Daily Planet had earned their spot. So usually Clark witnessed only the disappointed or jubilant reporters walking out of Perry's office on almost a daily basis. There were very few temper tantrums. But they still happened.

One such instance was now, when he could hear a heated discussion behind the glass door and saw someone with a distinctly pink pencil skirt. Clark focused very hard on his story, but no matter what he tried, he couldn't stop hearing the conversation. It was about Superman and frankly, he didn't want to deal with that today. He decided to pour himself another cup of coffee only to excuse himself from an awkward situation with Cat.

In the middle of making his coffee he cursed his luck as he saw Cat stomping through the office in a huff, muttering to herself about "politics" and "censorship", right into the break room. If he stopped now, she would know that he heard her unpleasant conversation with Perry and she might confront him about it. Or complain about it. He continued filling his cup trying to avoid any eye contact with her. She sighed as she waited. Finally he finished and practically ran toward the door when he heard another overly dramatic sigh. He sighed inwardly. Sometimes Clark didn't like that he couldn't ignore people.

"What's wrong, Catherine?" Clark asked in a friendly tone.

She looked at him fiercely. "Perry just rejected another one of my stories."

"What was it about?" he asked already knowing the answer.

"Superman. I knew that this paper always leaned left, but I never thought it would stoop to stomping all over my First Amendment rights."

"I'm not sure your rights are being violated, Catherine," he said carefully. Clark was always careful to not involve himself in the office gossip or politicking. His job as this persona was to stay as much of a wallflower as possible, but sometimes he just couldn't handle people's apoplectic reactions to insignificant or non-existent wrongs. It was very common that those reactions came from Catherine Grant. He expected an onslaught, instead Catherine gave him a condescending look.

"Aw, Clark. It's so cute how naïve you are." Her stare turned a touch predatory as she came closer to him. She deftly touched his shoulder.

"I guess you can take the boy out of the country, but not the country out of the boy." Before he could respond, Catherine kissed his cheek.

"You're so adorable. I can almost forgive you for being a Superman apologist."

Clark stammered as she pulled away from him and prayed to whomever was listening that Lois had not seen that exchange.

"Kent! Lane! Get in here!" Perry shouted.

Clark exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and pried Catherine's hand off of his shoulder.

"Sorry Catherine, Perry needs me," he said as he practically super-sped to Perry's office. Lois wasn't too far behind.

Perry was standing looking outside his window when they arrived in his office. "I've got a new assignment for the three of you."

"Really? We're not finished with the story about Bruce Wayne's benefit for Metropolis families."

Clark wasn't completely paying attention. Perry had said the three of them. Who was the third?

"I know. I gave that story to new assignment is a little more dire. You know those Senators that have it in for Superman? What are their policies focused on?"

"Illegal immigration and national security," Clark answered immediately. Those senators' stances on those issues bothered Clark greatly.

"And who was their largest contributor to their campaigns?"

"Francis and Clay? It was Lex Luthor," Lois piped up.

"Then you should know why this is important," said another voice from behind them. All three of them looked to see it was Kassandra. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"Not at all, Kassandra. We've just started," Perry said congenially.

Clark's brows furrowed in confusion as he looked from Kassandra to Lois to Perry. "What's going on?"

"Kassandra will be collaborating on this project as a legal expert," Perry replied smoothly.

"That's nice, but we would like to know what this project will be," Lois said.

Kassandra sashayed over to Clark and Lois with a large manila envelope in her hand. "Sources connected to our legal team have informed us that Francis and Clay are drafting legislation to register super-powered humans. They are calling it the Meta-Human Registration Act. They are starting a campaign promoting the act," she explained as she passed two documents to both of them. They detailed information on both Senators as well as intel about what the legislation entailed.

"Let me guess. Lex Luthor is funding this." Lois said as she examined the first document.

"Exactly. I bet he'll use this as an example of his adherence to protecting this country from any possible 'threats'," Kassandra said with disdain.

"Why is Lex Luthor trying to gain such a standing?" Clark asked. He knew little about Lex Luthor other than he was an obscenely wealthy and shrewd business person.

"I have friends who are lobbyists and the word is that he is planning a run for the Senate."

Clark grimaced. Francis and Clay were problems from the beginning. They were two very loud opponents of his in the Senate. But Luthor was an unexpected and unknown challenge. He couldn't completely blame him as he was pretty sure he had destroyed or at least been complicit in the destroying some of his stuff. However, he had hoped that Luthor would respond like Bruce Wayne had over losing his satellite: apathetic silence. Truthfully, Bruce Wayne seemed like more of a playboy than Luthor was. It was possible that Wayne didn't care about his satellite because Wayne didn't care about his company. Regardless, he would have expected a bill, not legislative revenge. To top it all, this possible campaign for a senate seat was disturbing. He was beginning to feel secure that he was making traction with U.S. Government with the trust of General Swanwick and an increasing amount of public officials. Still he had powerful detractors and he didn't need another vocal politician against him.

"I want you three to learn all that you can about this new legislation and its backers. Kent, Lane I want you to learn the opinions of ordinary Americans about this legislation, information on Ferguson and Clay. Lee-Ahn, check into the constitutionality of this legislation. I want the will of the people and an analysis of what this legislation is. Get to work," Perry said.

They all nodded turned to leave when they heard Perry speak behind them. "Guys."

All three of them turned to see Perry look unusually grim. "I want to emphasize to you three how important this is. This has to be some of your best work. Because if this legislation passes, it will make history," he said grimly.

_And not in a good way. _Clark thought darkly. His coffee was now cold, but it didn't matter. They had work to do.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 **

Clark was leisurely flying in the upper atmosphere listening to the world. Consumed with thoughts about the story and Lois (always Lois), he was grateful for the peaceful world. He drew deep of the cold, thin air and reveled in the feeling. Growing up on a farm and drifting into mostly sparsely populated places he was still unused to the level of livelihood within such a bustling city as Metropolis. Sometimes it was more than his ears could bear. Being able to escape from it in the sky was restful.

The life of a superhero, however, was rarely restful. His respite was short-lived as he then heard a piercing cry from the east coast of North America. Without hesitation he flew to where the scream was. It originated in Gotham, but Clark, although unfamiliar with the notorious city, took no time to admire or shrink from its ruinous buildings and streets. His entire focus was on the person in trouble: a young man who was being mugged behind a strip club.

With all of his speed, Clark flew toward the sound. He was moments away, but before he could intervene a dark shadow swept the scene and over-took the thugs. They were being pulled into the darkness by a force inhuman. The thugs circled closer together as the young man ran away in a frenzy. They looked around frantically, searching like prey cornered by an unknown predator. Then like an ooze seeping from beneath, the shadows stretched into the light, morphing and building into the form of a man.

Clark had heard of him before. He had read the almost mythic accounts of the Dark Knight, the one whose tools were shadow and stealth. Who was merciless only to the point of death. A fallen angel whose duty was the protection of this city. But he had never seen him. Nor had he seen him fight. Tonight he saw everything.

It was Batman.

And he was terrifying.

With fluid ferocity, Batman flowed over and in between the terrified men who struck blindly as he weaved like smoke until each lay unconscious on the ground like marionettes with broken strings. So entranced Clark was, that he scarcely heard the sirens and was amazed that perhaps Batman had heard them too; as he left as swiftly as he had arrived, without a trace.

Clark let out a breath he didn't realize he had held. Batman was fear and darkness out for vengeance. He was force and will; an anti-hero whose mission was to protect, but not inspire anything except for dread. Not even his crest of Hope could completely protect him from that fear. He found the guise he wore was appropriate for Batman. Many people were afraid of bats. Although it was ironic that really people had very little to fear from them, that was not the case with Batman.

Clark took a deep breath and relaxed his body. He was being ridiculous. Batman attacked criminals, not other heroes. And he was Superman. Nothing from this Earth could hurt him. Besides, Batman had disappeared and the police were rounding up the thugs. His job had finished before it had started.

Finally he had a chance to absorb the scenery and the only word that could accurately describe Gotham was, well, depressing. Litter was everywhere, and so many buildings were in disrepair, and he saw a great deal of people in worn clothes walking the streets at night. However, he saw glimmers of hope as well. A city coming back from the brink of death. Perhaps that was Batman's doing.

"What are you doing in my city?" said a gravelly voice from behind him.

Again he felt amazed. No one in his whole life had been able to sneak up on him. He turned around slowly to see him half-cloaked in the shadow of twilight.

Clark swallowed roughly, but kept his confident composure. "I was just-"

"Gotham is my turf," he barked.

Although taken aback, he continued to speak with aplomb. "I didn't mean any disrespect. I help where I'm needed."

"I've seen what your help looks like and _that _isn't needed here."

Clark felt a flicker of anger in his chest, but he didn't respond. His fear of Batman had lessened. Although the way he looked at him wasn't at all comforting. His eyes were calculating points of blue light. Clark felt exposed and wondered if this was what it felt like to be x-rayed.

"So you're Superman. The Man of Steel. Tell me Man of Steel, how does it feel looking down on all of us?"

Batman was smirking. Now all the original fear and awe he had felt was replaced by an overwhelming urge to punch the man square in the face. But his parents raised him right, so he remained polite and direct.

"You don't like me very much."

"How could you tell?" Batman asked sarcastically.

Clark scoffed. "You don't even know me."

"Not yet. But I don't need novice heroes messing around in the world, not thinking about the consequences. Especially when those people are more powerful than a missile."

Clark stepped forward and stood at his full height. "I would never turn my back on my responsibilities."

"Maybe it would be better if you did."

Clark glared at Batman who was smirking again. All sense of consideration left him.

"Right. Because you've done a top-notch job here," Clark jabbed at him.

"My city still stands," he shot back.

Clark's heart sank. Batman was now stoic and deadly.

"Good bye Superman. I better not see you here again," he said sternly before he melted into the blackness. Surprisingly, Clark couldn't even see him, and he was glad for it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 **

Ever since the direct attack on his Mom by Zod, Clark remained wary of her safety. Clark looked after the entire world, but his Mom was always a priority. As a protector of Earth he hesitated to choose favorites, but it would be dishonest of him to say that there weren't humans in this world he granted special security. Besides Clark had experienced an odd few weeks even for him and needed some Mom time.

The conversation with Batman had angered him. And although Lois had tried to cheer him up,("That psychotic bat wannabe actually accused _you _of being irresponsible? Everyone knows about his own issues with collateral damage and excessive force. He doesn't know what he's talking about Clark!") he begrudgingly accepted that Batman had a point. Being criticized by a veteran hero was...disappointing. Even with all of his abilities and even though he had made a great deal of progress in his saves, he had to admit that Batman was on a whole other level. When it came to subtlety, Clark was still a novice. And he never recalled reading about one of Batman's clashes leading to massive destruction. A bit of destruction, yes, but not flattening a city.

So Clark really needed to not be in Metropolis and his home pushed away his dark thoughts. He smiled as they pulled into the familiar drive of his (and now Lois') favorite place on Earth: the Kent farm. And it was looking much better than it had the last time she was there. During Zod's invasion, he had added an old pick up truck to the house decor, making the house as open literally as it was figuratively. Besides the newly built roof, there wasn't much different. Unless you counted people.

"Who is that?" Lois asked pointing out a few yards ahead of them where a young woman with dark auburn hair stood working.

"Must be a new hire," Clark said easily. During his childhood, Jonathan Kent ran the farm on his own and Clark helped as best he could. But when Clark was older and better at controlling his abilities, Jonathan enlisted the help of some local hands. Clark still helped, though in the human way. After his father's death and his lengthy absence from the farm, it came as no surprise to him that his mother had hired several more workers to pick up the slack.

"I didn't realize your Mom hired children," she joked.

Clark smiled a little bit. Even during the school year, students were looking to earn money to either save for college or spend. Therefore it made sense that there was someone new, not to mention young.

"She probably goes to the high school. Come on, my Mom's probably fixing dinner."

"You go ahead. I want to see what it's like to go to a farming community's high school."

Clark frowned a bit. "I went there."

"Fifteen years ago. Maybe I should do a piece on the life of farming communities."

"Don't you think Smallville has had enough attention?"

The feds had already combed the place after the battle with Faora and Nam-Ek. The last thing he needed was another spotlight on Smallville.

Lois bit her lip."I suppose you're right." Almost immediately she lit up again. "But it wouldn't hurt to do some research into my boyfriend's town. From, you know, an unbiased perspective."

She played with the lapel of shirt teasingly and Clark leaned forward obediently.

"I can't begrudge you that. But don't scare her off. My mother needs help on the farm."

"Yeah, it's not like she has a superpowered son or anything." She kissed his smile sweetly. "Come on let's go say hello," she said as she dragged him over to the young worker.

* * *

><p>When Lois reached the new employee, she noticed just how young this girl looked. She couldn't have been older than 16. Wearing paint spattered jeans two sizes too big, a faded large t-shirt, black sunglasses and a ratty hat, it would have been difficult to tell she was female at all had it not been for her short pony tail poking through the back of her hat. Her head was bopping up and down as she listened to her music player. She looked enthralled in her work of trimming a wild-looking bush.<p>

"Hi!" Clark said loud enough so the girl could hear over her head phones.

The girl jumped a little bit and looked at Lois and Clark confusedly before a half-smile appeared on her face.

"Hello," she stammered as she removed her sunglasses to show bright blue eyes and a slightly freckled face.

"Sorry to bother you, but you must be new here. I'm Clark Kent," Clark said cordially extending his hand to greet her.

"Yeah, I started a week ago. You're Mrs. Kent's son," she said still a little dumbfounded. But after a moment she took his hand and shook it eagerly.

Lois couldn't tell if her odd behavior was because she was shy or that she thought Clark was hot. The girl's eyes surveyed Clark's body from head to toe and back.

_ Ah. _

Clark smiled boyishly and turned to Lois who only raised her eyebrow, but an amused grin slid on her face. He blushed adorably.

"Well, I should go say hi to my Mom. It was nice to meet you." He waved a little to the girl, kissed Lois on the cheek, and walked toward the house.

The girl was staring after him; her eyes transfixed on his taut behind.

"And my name is Lois Lane," Lois said a little too loudly. She jumped again after being jarred out of her leering, but her smile grew larger.

"Oh, I know who you are. I've read all your articles. Especially the ones about Superman," she said shaking her hand vigorously.

Lois blushed a little bit. She wasn't used to people being excited to speak to her, so she immediately forgave the young woman for checking her boyfriend out. Lois couldn't blame her really; Clark was stupidly handsome.

"What's your name?"

"Melissa Banks," she replied.

"It's nice to meet you. So what attracted you to working on the farm?"

She shrugged. "Fresh air, honest work. It gives me time to think. I'm an aspiring writer myself, although I mostly delve into fiction."

"You'd be surprised how many reporters delve into fiction."

Nothing bothered Lois more than the fact that her medium had been overrun by 'journalists' who were willing to obfuscate or even manufacture stories just to generate click traffic on their articles. There were few reporters left with the guts and the integrity to only print the truth without alteration.

"Like Woodburn?" she asked making a slightly disgusted face.

Lois chuckled. "Not a fan?"

"No. The only time he printed anything factual was when he had your article up there."

Although flattered, Lois shifted uncomfortably. A lot of people that she talked to now-a-days interrogated her about Superman. This was a mini vacation; she didn't need that now.

"So do you attend the high school in Smallville?"

She laughed. "I'm 25."

Lois' eyebrows shot into her hairline. "Wow. You look very young."

"I get that a lot." She laughed a little awkwardly. "It's not always an advantage."

"Where are you from?"

"Metropolis."

"Really? Why are you all the way out here?"

Melissa's smile suddenly dropped. "My dad and I—We were both in Metropolis the day that _it_ happened."

"Oh."

Swallowing the usual platitudes, Lois remained silent. As one who was accustomed to death and war she knew that they were empty words. As an Army brat, she understood the reality of great calamities. She saw it in the faces of the soldiers returning home and in the faces of the families who would never see their loved ones again. No amount of folded Old Glory's or encomiums of the dead would replace what they lost. She really hoped nothing had happened to her father. Regardless, she wanted desperately to say how sorry she was. She choked on her selfishness until it passed. It must have shown on her face because Melissa was shaking her head.

"It's okay. I mean, neither of us got hurt, but-", Melissa looked long at Lois, "I just can't go back there."

_Oh. _A wave of relief washed over her, but Lois understood her feelings. Seeing her beloved city in ruins had been one of the most heart wrenching moments in her life.

Melissa was fidgeting uncomfortably and grimacing as if reliving memories of that day.

"Can we not talk about this?" she asked.

"Sure," Lois said sympathetically. That's the second time she had opened up a wound with her probing. The first one was with Clark in the graveyard. She supposed it was the journalist in her that made her ask uncomfortable questions, but it still didn't make it okay to do it to regular people.

"Miss Lane?"

"Call me Lois, please."

"Lois. Could I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Melissa hesitated. "What's he like?"

"Hmm?" she asked feigning ignorance.

Lois understood that Superman was a hot topic and as his journalistic connection, by proxy so was she, but the constant questions about him were tiring after a while. Usually she just cut off the offending person, but she liked this girl and the way she asked the question seemed to stem from a genuine interest in him than a fan girl's fanatical obsession.

Thankfully, Melissa either didn't notice or didn't care about her attempted evasion.

"Superman. You know him, don't you?"

Lois shrugged. "How well can you know a man like him?"

"I just thought that if anyone could answer my question you could."

She looked so vulnerable, Lois gave in. "What is it?" she asked kindly.

"People say he's a hero. Is that true?"

"He is," she said without hesitation. "You don't think so?"

Melissa looked away thoughtfully for a moment. "Maybe. I want to."

"What's holding you back?"

Melissa grimaced a little. _Right. _

"I'm not saying what happened was his fault," she said. "But if Zod hadn't come here..."

If Zod had never shown up Colonel Hardy, Doctor Hamilton and thousands of other lives would have been spared. Clark wouldn't have been forced to kill, but also Clark wouldn't have come out as Superman. It would have been later and when that happened would the world have been less inclined to trust him if not under apocalyptic duress? The world wouldn't be inspired as it was now. ...Would she and Clark be together? Lois knew it was selfish, but if there was one good thing that came out of that dreadful day it was their relationship.

"Anyway, I've been disappointed before, so I'm reserving judgment."

"He won't disappoint you," Lois said vehemently.

She chuckled mirthlessly. "Yeah, well. I'm afraid I'm a 'believe in evidence' kind of girl. I would really like to know who he is before I trust him."

"Everybody wants to know who he is."

"No, I don't mean his identity. I mean his character, his beliefs. I want to know the man underneath the cape."

Lois found herself impressed by this young woman. Youth did not always dwell with wisdom. This young woman was smart. She looked up at the house and saw Clark in the window washing dishes and sighed. Melissa didn't realize how close she was to discovering that truth.

"You know I can see why you're such a great reporter. I don't know what, but there's something about you that makes people tell you their secrets," she said with genuine admiration.

Lois laughed a little bit. "It's a gift."

"Be careful. The government might hear that, scoop you up, and question you about your 'gifts'," she joked sardonically.

The line in Lois' forehead creased before she remembered. The Meta-Human Registration Act was a piece of hotly debated legislation drafted by Ferguson and Clay with Lex Luthor as a backer. It had been announced the day before so she wasn't surprised that Melissa knew about it. With Clark, Lois, and Kassandra as legal consultant collaborating together, they were writing an article about the bill and its questionable constitutionality along with interviews with other legislators and the opinions of Americans. Lois' grimace turned into a determined smile. Melissa was an American and she seemed to have an opinion.

"You mean-"

"Current legislation being debated on the House floor? Yeah, I know about that," she said this calmly, but still there was an edge to her voice.

Lois was surprised and impressed again. This girl displayed an emotional maturity lost among some of her peers as well as an awareness of the world and the events within it. But also she noticed there was a burden on her.

"You sound angry," she said simply.

"I am. These meta-humans are just trying to live their lives. Most meta-humans don't even have dangerous powers. The ones that do usually use them to help people."

"There are probably also those that would use their abilities to hurt people."

"Yes. But just because there are a few bad apples it doesn't mean you throw out the bushel. You can't discriminate against people just because they might be a risk. That's like people with guns. Most gun owners are responsible people."

"People do have to register to own guns."

Melissa looked confused and aghast. "Do you agree with them?"

"No! But to have an informed opinion and write a good article I need to know what both sides are saying."

"An article?"

Lois smiled broadly. "Clark and I along with one of our colleagues are writing an article on the legislation and I'm interested to know the voice of the people. If you're up to it, I'd appreciate your opinion."

Inexplicably Melissa deflated. "I don't know."

A few seconds ago she was passionate about her position and now she was suddenly shy about sharing. Lois was perplexed.

"You seem to be well-informed and you are very articulate," Lois encouraged.

"I don't want to be in a newspaper," she said a little nervously.

"I understand."

That made some sense. Some people didn't want to be published, but her journalistic instinct gnawed at her consciousness. Something else was holding Melissa back.

"If you change your mind," Lois handed her a business card, "contact me."

"Thanks," she said taking it reluctantly. Judging from her body language, Lois didn't expect a call.

"Look, I'm sorry. I really have to get back to work. It was nice to meet you, Miss Lane." She plugged her earphones back into her ears. A little confused and disappointed, Lois walked into the house to join Mrs. Kent and Clark.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

Lois and Clark sat in blissful silence on the couch in his Mother's house watching, but not really watching TV. Constantly flipping through the channels getting little snippets of the programs they passed, sometimes staying for a second or two out of curiosity, but Lois couldn't decide. There was a judge show she passed in a huff, followed by a talk show, and then a news show which she briefly stayed on to learn there were going to be meteor showers in a few days. She kept this up until she finally landed on an infomercial about a skillet one could use without oiling it. Frustrated with the lack of interesting programing she threw the remote into the empty couch cushion beside her and sunk into the crook of Clark's body. Clark inhaled the scent of Lois' hair deeply.

"That would be so useful if I cooked," Lois remarked after a few seconds.

"We have one of those."

"We do?" She turned her head slightly to give Clark a quizzical look and he greeted it with a small smile.

"Yeah. You don't know that because you don't cook."

She chuckled. "I'm so glad I have a boyfriend who is well-versed in the culinary arts."

"If by well-versed you mean 'can cook basic meals', then yeah I am," he said proudly.

She turned to him again incredulously. "Do you call rosemary roast chicken with garlic mashed potatoes, sourdough stuffing, and a corn casserole dish a basic meal?"

He blushed a little. "That's a Sunday dinner. Besides Ms. Lane, it's not like you don't have your own trade secrets."

She shook her head. "I'm only good at mixing drinks and concocting delicious beverages."

"Exactly. We're a perfect match. I do the feeding, you do the watering."

"Now if only one of us knew how to satisfy the sweet tooth."

"That's where I come in," said Martha Kent followed by a gloriously buttery smell. Both Lois and Clark inhaled deeply. "I have fresh-baked apple pie."

"It smells amazing, Mrs. Kent."

"Please Lois call me Martha. I picked the apples myself and cooked the crust from scratch."

"I can't wait to taste it, Mrs.-Martha," she said. Clark smiled. There was nothing better than the love of his life bonding with his mother.

"Come to the table and eat while it's warm. There's nothing on anyway."

Lois and Clark groaned a little to be pulled from their lazy Friday evening, but were mollified by the prospect of Martha Kent's homemade (and world-famous) apple pie. She had already set the table with a big piece for each of them, when they entered the kitchen.

"So, what are you two up to at the Daily Planet?"

Lois and Clark shared a slightly worried look. Throughout dinner they had been mum about their article and the other reason they were in Smallville. Although both Lois and Clark needed the time away from Metropolis, they had decided that the weekend with Martha shouldn't be just a vacation. Clark knew that his mother wouldn't be happy about it, but he couldn't keep it from her anymore. As he explained to her what their plans were, he watched dishearteningly as his mother's frown became deeper and deeper.

"What? Honey, I don't know how I feel about you interviewing people in town," she said, her pie forgotten.

Clark completely understood her hesitation. After the attack on Smallville she was just as nervous as Clark about the media attention that had increased there, especially on her farm. Everything had finally settled and now Lois and her son were going to rile things up again by asking the townspeople their opinions about super-powered individuals. So Clark tried to calm his mother as much as possible by informing her he was not going to interview anyone. It was no secret that everyone in town knew about Clark's powers, so to avoid influencing the individual's opinions by his presence, Lois would go solo while he stayed at the farm and did internet research. This did little to assuage his mother's fears.

"Everyone knows about Lois too. She was here interviewing about you before and she showed up in Smallville in a spaceship during the invasion."

"Mom, to inform people about this legislation we need the people's opinion. It's because the invasion happened partly in Smallville that we decided to focus on this place."

As much as Clark didn't want to admit it to Lois, he agreed with his Mom. Despite the townspeople's tenuous acceptance of him, he still had trepidation about the interviews. He hadn't been the only super-powered person that destroyed half their town. And those other super-powered people almost destroyed their entire world. His town had learned to accept him, but it had taken 33 years and apocalyptic circumstances in order for that to happen. The possibility of them accepting others like him was unknown. But their article was important. The legislation in question decided the fate of thousands of people. This legislation could destroy lives and he knew it would divide humanity further. He could not allow that. As his destiny was to unite Peoples, it was his responsibility to see past his own fears and weaknesses for the sake of others.

"Mom, we have to do this."

Martha sighed. "I understand and I appreciate that you're not going to be doing the interviewing. And this is important. But Lois—well you're very protective of Clark and are particularly...assertive when it comes to your defense of Superman," she said carefully.

"Martha, I promise I won't be abrasive no matter what they say."

Clark and his Mom sent identical skeptical looks toward Lois.

"I'll be the least abrasive I can be," she amended.

"Okay." She turned away from them and proceeded to put on her coat.

"Where are you going Mom?"

"Pick some apples. We're gonna need more pie."

The next morning Lois headed out early to town making sure she drank two cups of coffee and kissing Clark long and hard to inoculate herself from the negativity she might face. If the effect the make out session had on him was anything like Lois was feeling, he was sure she would be fine. He was able to sift easily through message boards about the legislation for over an hour before he started getting a head and heart ache. He then decided that fresh air would help.

As it was Sunday, all the workers are gone. Therefore Clark felt free and secure to finish the incomplete tasks left by them. Although he could have literally sped through them and have them done before mid-morning, he decided to do things the human way. The wood of the stairs in the barn was rotting and needed replacing. The longer he spent away from his computer the better he would feel was his logic, but it wasn't long before the hard labor was no longer a worthy distraction and his mind drifted to town.

What were they saying? He wondered. Why did it matter so much to him? Why did he so desperately still want their approval? Wasn't he above all that now? Didn't he know that what he was doing was right and that he was fulfilling his destiny? But he hadn't always done what was right. He had made a horrible choice once. He sighed. It was always back to that. Day and night no matter what happened, it weighed on him heavier than the world and-

"Clark, you don't have to do that." He looked up to see his Mom walking into the barn carrying a load of laundry. He hadn't heard her enter. She was smiling at him.

"Honey, that's why I hired people."

He stuck his hammer into a beam of wood.

"This farm is my home too. Just because I don't live here doesn't mean I don't have responsibilities here."

"Still, usually you don't do it like this. Is something bothering you?"

He busied himself by setting a new beam of wood where the bannister of the staircase would go, fished out a nail from his pouch, and began pounding into the wood.

"Clark." He wasn't listening. His repetitive pounding got louder.

"Clark." Still he pounded.

"Clark!" There was a ripping noise as the beam split off on one end. Angrily, he threw his hammer down. His back was to her.

"Sweetie," she said gently. "You know I can see right through you. I knew you didn't really want to hear about the people in town."

Clark didn't respond at first. He was very fascinated by his hands as he continued to stare at them. But he couldn't escape his mother and he didn't really want to either. Her footfalls followed her up the stairs to greet him in the loft and he felt her hand on her shoulder.

"I'm just...a little worried about what they'll say," he finally admitted.

"Say about that bill or about you?"

Dusty came trotting up behind Martha, first tentatively investigating the broken beam, then running up to Clark who eagerly petted his fur to ignore answering her question.

"Honey, I am a stubborn old woman, but I know when to admit that I'm wrong. And Lois is right. You saved this town. The people here know that. They protected you from the government before and they'll protect you again."

He shook his head still absent-mindedly petting Dusty.

"But this legislation—maybe it'll be a rallying cry to all the people who hate me still? And what about the meta-humans out there? Even if the people of Smallville support _me_ that doesn't mean that they will support others like me."

Sitting there with his dog, he felt like a child again. Alone and scared. The only friends he had ever had were his dogs. Martha must have sensed his thoughts because when he looked up he saw a familiar sadness there.

"Clark, no one in this town has ever hated you."

He scoffed. "I don't remember much love." He saw the pain in her eyes. "Except for you and Dad."

Her eyes softened as she sat next to him on the stoop. "Clark. The people of this town and this world know that you are a hero. That's all that matters to them. Besides, truth and good are on your side and those always win."

"What about the bad things I've done?"

He looked at his mother desperately.

Her face was unreadable, but her voice was resolute. "No one is mourning."

He looked away from her. Just because no one was sad about Zod's death didn't make what he did right.

"Clark, you had to make a choice. And in that moment, you chose mankind. People will remember that," she told him tenderly.

"What about everyone else?" he asked skeptically.

His mother looked away. No matter the acceptance extended to him, she knew the lessons that they had taught Clark about the human capacity for fear and hate. So however badly he wanted to believe in humanity and have hope in their better nature, there was still a lingering doubt. He could tell by her eyes that her faith was tempered by doubt as well.

"I don't know, Clark," she said softly. "Sometimes it's hard to tell with people."

Clark sighed heavily.

"But," she said, "I do have faith that things will work out alright in the end."

She smiled at him and he returned it, but he didn't feel the same.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 **

The bullpen was buzzing like a beehive in spring. Constantly people were in and out of the bullpen, out of their seats and in their seats, on the phone and on their keyboards. It was a symphony of voices, footsteps, and keys clacking. The persistent multi-directional activity would have distracted most, but to Lois, it was white noise. Lost in organizing quotes and scheduling meetings, Lois barely registered Kassandra's presence if only due to the smell of a caffeinated beverage.

"Hi! Pumpkin spice latte?"

Lois smiled. "No thanks. The only way I eat pumpkin is in pie form."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. How was your visit to Smallville?"

"Enlightening. How was your studying?"

"Exhausting. My headache will last for a week." She swiped a hair out of her face dramatically causing Lois to chuckle a little. Her laughter trailed off when out of the corner of her eye she saw Clark's head rise slowly. His jaw tensed as he turned one ear toward whatever sound he was focusing on. His eyes took a distant look. Immediately he stood and unbuttoned his coat with one hand.

"Lois, I think I'm going to interview some police officers," he said not looking at her. She could tell he was scanning for the quickest and least conspicuous route to wherever he needed to be.

"Okay. That's a good idea," she said barely looking at him.

He walked with a practiced calm as he passed the elevator headed directly for the stairwell. Confident that no one had noticed his departure, Lois went back to her computer. But inside she prayed to whatever deity existed that it wasn't a major emergency. Although invulnerable to physical damage, he was not to emotional pain. Many a night she had cradled him while he mourned the lives lost in many natural disasters, which thanks to climate change were happening more often. Always blaming himself, he felt the weight of the lives of all the people he couldn't save. It was his burden and passion to protect the world and it was her burden and passion to protect his heart.

"He does that a lot," Kassandra said, staring at his vacant seat.

"What?"

"He leaves a lot."

"Yeah, I guess he does." Lois shrugged easily, but she raised her defenses.

"It's weird though, right?"

"Journalists are busy. You know that," Lois said trying to sound nonchalant.

"Yeah, but it's like he'll be in the middle of a thought and then it's interrupted by something only he can hear."

Her heart was beating a little faster. From the beginning Clark had been suspicious of Kassandra. Lois' background check turned out nothing unusual, but there was no reason to not be careful. A perceptive mind was an asset in a journalist, but a vexation for Lois' and Clark's personal lives and unfortunately Kassandra possessed one. They had been successfully dodging suspicions for months leading to none being wiser about Clark's alter-ego. However, Kassandra was new and was around them constantly due to professional necessity. Although Clark had made the right first impression, it was obvious the ridiculous nature of his behavior had yet to dispel the mysteries surrounding him. Lois had to spur the belief in Clark's conventional life.

She smiled brightly.

"Clark is a talented person, but easily distracted. He'll be working on something then have an epiphany that he feels he needs to act on immediately. Luckily they're usually good epiphanies."

Kassandra raised an eyebrow. "I see." She didn't look completely convinced and stared in the direction Clark had left. A perceptive mind indeed.

"We should probably get back to work," Lois said.

Focused back on Lois, she nodded. "Right. Email me a time when it would be more convenient for both of you. We should compare notes."

After she agreed that she would contact Kassandra, she left and Lois felt free to release the breath she had held. Kassandra was too observant. The irony of it was the best and worst place for her to be was near Clark regularly; the better to watch him, but also the better to watch her.

Lois shook her head. There was no point in worrying. This was what she had signed up for and she never regretted that choice. She had faced the military and an alien force to protect Clark's secret. She could handle an astute lawyer. When she finally turned back to her computer to her surprise she saw a manila envelope on her keyboard. Curious, she supposed the mail carrier must have dropped it off while she was talking to Kassandra.

It was a nondescript manila envelope. It had no marks except a printed sticker addressing the letter to her. She opened it slowly. As a reporter, she was accustomed to odd mail about alien abductions (especially after the arrival of Superman), bigfoot, conspiracy theories, but she had never received anything like this.

The paper was as remarkable as the envelope. It was plain white with a single sentence typed in the center of the page.

_He has a weakness._

As a writer, Lois understood and wielded the power of words. A single sentence can carry great weight. It can induce joy and dread, exaltation and fear, celebration and melancholy. Lois felt none of these. Instead, she was numb. Until suddenly she was inundated with several emotions at once: fear, stress, worry, anger, and curiosity. She had been in war zones, kidnapped, and stolen away more times than she cared to remember but none of them were as sickening and violating as that moment. She had survived and even thrived in stress filled areas, but so many other lives were at stake. Clark, Mrs. Kent, the world. She had to do something.

"Who sent this?" Lois asked out loud.

She looked around scanning for the mail carrier. Slumped over his cart as he sifted through the mail he stood by Lombard's desk. He was a very young man with gelled spiky hair. She had never seen that man before. She replaced the letter in the envelope and rushed up to his side.

"Hey!"

Obviously a noob and not accustomed to Lois' volume, he jumped out of skin and looked at her in blatant fear as he shakily readjusted his glasses on his thin nose.

"M-Ms. Lane?" he stammered.

"What is this?" she demanded as she shoved the envelope into his face.

"What?" he asked a little dumbly staring at the folder and then at her.

"This." She shook the envelope in front of him.

"An envelope," he deadpanned.

"Don't get smart. Who sent this?"

He adjusted his glasses again and examined the envelope. "There's no return address. It's completely unmarked. There's no way to know."

"Why would you put an unmarked letter on my desk?"

"I didn't put this on your desk," he said a little nervously.

"What? Then who did?"

"I don't know," he said with a little shrug.

Lois narrowed her eyes. He lifted up his hands defensively.

"I don't know! I just deliver the mail, I don't ask questions."

She practically growled. "And that's why you just deliver the mail."

He handed it back to her and escaped quickly. No one dealt with Lois Lane when she was angry. A hard line crossed her face as she ignored the fleeing man and continued to scan the area for anyone out-of-place. Except there was no one out of the ordinary in the office. Although seemingly comforting, it rode her nerves. She slumped into her chair and reread the message maybe a dozen times.

_ He has a weakness. _

So many questions swirled in her weakness? Who would know this? Why would this person warn them? Or was it to scare them?

"What is it? What's wrong?" She jumped at Clark's voice. And she quickly stashed the envelope and letter away. He looked confused and concerned.

"What makes you think something is wrong?"

"Your heart is beating a mile a minute."

She sighed.

"Not here." She looked around him and all around the office again. The messenger could still be there. "Not now."

The Planet was no longer safe.

"Lois-"

"Just wait, Clark. Please," she practically pleaded with him.

Though he still looked concerned, he nodded and sat at his desk. The rest of the day was tense and awkward between them. Lois kept looking around nervously until finally she gave up and took the rest of the day off. Clark followed suit. Safely at home, Lois finally showed Clark the reason for her distress earlier in the day. His heart dropped into his stomach.

"Who sent this?" he croaked.

"I don't know. I turned away for one second and when I looked back there was this envelope on my desk."

"You got this at the Planet?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Was there anyone unusual?"

"There wasn't anyone there who wasn't supposed to be."

Clark slumped into a seat in their kitchen.

"I don't understand. What weakness? Who-Why?"

"I don't know." Lois sighed as she slipped into a chair opposite him.

The power of words was astounding. It could create leaders or destroy them. It could halt a speeding avalanche of hate. It could spur people to action. And it could invoke fear in even the strongest of men. This message led to one dread-inducing conclusion.

"Someone is watching us," he said. "And they're at the Planet."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 **

"We're here live at LexCorp plaza seconds away from Lex Luthor's last-minute press conference," said a young blonde woman into her microphone labeled WBGS. A hum of excitement thrummed outside the majestic and reflective glass building.

"Tammy, is it true that not many know what this is about?" asked a young man with dark hair and olive skin who sat behind a WBGS news desk.

"Well, Jeff, most likely he's here to talk about the Meta-Human Registration Act, which he is backing. However, there are rumors of an impromptu bid for Senate. Seeing as it's almost election time, that would be a risky move."

"It would be indeed, Tammy. But I'm sure that if he is running, he's not worried that he won't have enough supporters," he said with a grin.

"I suppose we'll find out in a few seconds-and here he comes!"

A man of medium build with a bald head approached the podium solemnly, but with an air of easy confidence. There was complete silence from the large gathering of reporters, occasionally broken by the small clicks of cameras and murmured conversations. When he finally ascended the stage, he greeted two men who were standing behind the podium: a tall, dark-skinned man with buzzed hair and a trimmed beard peppered with grey, and a shorter and wider, light complexioned man with thinning brown hair. Both of them smiled brightly at Lex and shook his hand. As he took to the podium, the audience fell into anticipatory silence.

"Good afternoon," he spoke in a deep baritone voice. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here and I'm sure you've heard many rumors. All will be explained, but first I want to talk about something that I love. Something important: this country.

This country is the greatest nation in the world. And it holds that title because of all that we have here. Opportunity. Prosperity. But most of all freedom. We have the freedom to live our lives to the fullest potential and to give our children and future generations the best chance possible. As you can see here."

He gestured up to show the LexCorp building. The crowd chuckled a little.

"But my friends, we take these gifts for granted. For I come here today to tell you of grave news that threatens all that we hold dear. Our world today is different from what it used to be. Our threats are not our grandparents' or even our parents' threats. Where they had economic worries or war in distant lands, we have concerns that far outweigh those past hardships. Our dangers are far more mysterious. Camouflaged in our society, these dangers are our neighbors, our teachers, our doctors, even our taxi drivers. Seemingly normal and yet they can level cities, control our minds, and do other unimaginable things only if they concentrate. Ladies and gentlemen, I am talking about meta-humans."

There was a ripple of murmurs in the crowd, but they were again quickly enraptured by Luthor's rhetoric.

"In this country we debate about stronger gun laws, but these people are more powerful than a handgun or even an AK-47. Yet they walk around freely with no way for regular people to know who they are or what they can do. Simply put, our security is at risk. Now I am not saying that these people are inherently evil or that they intend to hurt us. But it would be naïve to suggest that these people do not present a threat to us and our way of life. For us to live safely and prosperously, we should know their identities and their abilities. It only makes sense. But our leaders in Washington, those whose job is to protect the citizens of this nation, sit idle; even ally themselves with the most dangerous of these super-powered people. They do nothing! That is why I and these two brave senators have drafted the Meta-Human Registration Act."

The words hung in the air like the cold as he paused.

"To the meta-humans of this country, I say this: I am not your enemy. All I want is your cooperation for the betterment of our country and our world. This goal will be met through the Meta-Human Registration Act. Your lives will not change in the slightest when you register. This is only a means of better understanding and trust between our Peoples. If you mean us no harm, if you have nothing to hide, then don't hesitate to come into the light."

He looked out sadly at the crowd.

"I only do this because I love this country. Now, you all know that for some time I have been involved in politics, although indirectly. My allies in the Senate," he gestured the men standing behind him "have helped pave the way towards reaching our goals. However, I realize that our government needs stronger leadership. Now is the time for me to take more direct action in helping my country."

He paused dramatically.

"Which is why I have decided to run for Senate."

Suddenly the press was in an uproar and Luthor could hardly be heard over the din.

"I stand before you today willing to protect this country from the threats at home, abroad, and beyond our atmosphere. As your leader, we will secure our country, and our world! Thank you."

The reporters surged forward for handshakes and quotes; pushing over each other to get in their question first. But there was one who stood away from the frenzy.

"Well, the rumors are true! Lex Luthor is running for Senate. And you heard it here live at the LexCorp plaza. I'm Tammy Saunders for WBGS. Back to you, Jeff."

* * *

><p><em>Lex Luthor is running for Senate. <em>

During the entire speech, Clark had kept his composure. Not even flinching when he was called 'the most dangerous', he had remained stoic and attentive. But the surprise ending had frozen him to the ground and all he could do was stare, unbelieving. Due to the questionable legality of his decision, he had naïvely hoped the rumors of his campaign were in fact rumors. After the speech had finished, he had clung to the belief that there was something to disqualify him. However with one phone call to Kassandra, he had learned the disheartening truth that it was technically possible for him to run as a write-in candidate.

It didn't really matter anyway. The fact was he was running and if Luthor won the seat, that would mean more political clout against him and the other super-powered people in the country. With a sinking feeling he realized that one day it could extend to the rest of the world. He had decided he couldn't go home so despondent. So he had escaped to the sky. Flying always helped put things in perspective.

Up high in the atmosphere he was literally on top of the world. Flying was like breathing and looking out on all the natural beauty was like a heart beating. The sounds of rushing waters, people laughing, walking, talking, the general ambience of life on Earth should have been a balm to Clark's worried mind, but instead the calm felt forced. Something was just off. Abandoning the attempt to hover supine above the clouds, Clark opened his eyes and 'stood'. On the emergency front, it was an unusually quiet night and the silence was foreboding and pressing. It made his body tremble with nervous energy to fly and to fight. Something was coming. And no matter how fast he travelled, he couldn't fly away from the storm on the horizon. He would have to find a way to face this reality.

His ears twitched as he picked up a low hum from the surface of the Earth. It was from Metropolis and it was his name. Or rather his alter-ego's name.

"Superman."

Nothing like a call for help, the voice was nonchalant, almost monotonous.

"Superman," it said again. The voice sounded familiar. He focused harder on the voice and it became as though the speaker were hovering next to him.

"Hello, Superman," the voice intoned. "I know you're out there looking down on us. I understand that you might be busy at the moment, but when you get the chance, I would like a word. It's important. Meet me in my office at the LexCorp tower. I'll be waiting."

Clark knew whose voice that was, but he didn't understand what Lex Luthor would want from Superman other than for him to leave. However he was curious, and a meeting like this could help not only Superman, but his mild-mannered self as well. Perhaps Lex Luthor was a reasonable man. Maybe Clark could convince Lex how destructive his legislation would be. Without hesitation, Clark began his descent.

As he came closer to the Metropolis skyline, he felt the pressure of the atmosphere increasing. The nervous energy started flowing more rapidly through him as he approached the LexCorp tower and hovered outside the top-most office. His muscles were as tense as they were during the battle with Zod. However, he ignored these irrational feelings. Lex had invited him politely and had made no threats.

A country boy in the truest sense, he courteously knocked on the window. Lex Luthor looked up and smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.

"Hello, Superman," he said as he opened the window. "Please come in."

Clark softly landed on the hardwood floor of the spacious office. In spite of his dubious feelings for this man, he was in awe of his office. The room was modern and metallic. Everything was angular and hard, with a steely reflection off of every object. A large black bookshelf stood against the wall. The Art of War, Machiavelli, The Fountainhead, Atlas Shrugged were some titles that stood out to him. There was a long broad sword propped up on the other side. The infamous CEO's desk sat before the expansive window overlooking the Metropolis skyline. War, power, success surrounded him. An emperor looking out at his empire. This room was designed to intimidate and Clark was sure that it didn't fail for most, but he felt unaffected. He was Superman after all.

When Clark finally turned to his host, Lex was giving him an appraising look, which was quickly replaced with a charming smile. Clark returned it with a polite one and decided to break the silence.

"You have quite an impressive office here."

"Thank you." There was another awkward silence in which Lex continued to stare at him.

"Can I help you with something, Mr. Luthor?" he asked feeling a little on display, like Lex was a general looking at a very big, powerful weapon.

"I certainly hope you can." He opened a tumbler of an amber liquid. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, thank you," Clark said.

His muscles twitched with distrust. Luthor had been nothing but polite since he dropped in, so there was no obvious reason for the unease he was feeling. However, the way he cast his gaze at Clark made him feel edgy. Regardless of his charming display, there was no warmth in those eyes. They were calculating and hard. Normal human or no, he sensed that this was a man not to be trifled with.

"I have to admit I'm surprised that you called for me."

"I'm a little surprised you came," he said with an easy smile. "I assume you've read the papers. You can read English, correct? You must know I'm not your biggest fan. But still you came to talk with one of us lowly mortals. I call and here you are. I'm flattered."

"I generally don't ignore cries for help when none is near."

"That's right. You're very helpful," he said casually leaning against his desk. "Are you sure you don't want a drink? You seem tense."

"I'm fine. Thank you." Clark looked at Luthor with increasing confusion. "It's just you don't seem to be in trouble. Why have you called me here, Mr. Luthor?"

He lightly shrugged. "I wanted to talk."

"About?"

"You." His eyes sparkled a little with deep interest.

"Me?"

He smiled widely showing perfectly straight white teeth. "Yes, you. Superman. The bringer of Hope. The one who will save us all. But I think those Second Coming nutjobs—what are they called Alien Adventists?-have it only half right. Above the world you seem like God, but now standing here, you look remarkably human."

"I may not be human, but I am not God either," he said a little uncomfortably.

"Oh, I know that and you know that, but do they?" Lex gestured out to the skyline. "You give a spectacular performance."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

It was Luthor's turn to look confused. "The people out there love you. The newspapers are plastered with hero-worship and some people believe that you are a god. And you stand there like it doesn't matter."

"I have never endorsed those beliefs or asked for worship." It was disturbing to Clark how many people believed he was the second coming of Christ. All he wanted was acceptance and trust, not reverence.

"Oh no, Superman. I'm not condemning you. I'm applauding you."

Clark narrowed his eyes. "I don't understand."

Luthor sighed. "I called you here Superman so I can help you. I'm impressed with what you've been able to do, but I think you can do more. But I'm getting ahead of myself." He paused for a moment. "If you'll indulge me, I want to ask you something."

Clark narrowed his eyes. From a man worth billions of dollars this was a strange request, but Clark nodded his consent anyway.

"You say you want to help humanity. That you want to inspire us. The people out there eat that up. Believe me, I understand the importance of good PR, I just wonder what this whole venture does for you."

"Excuse me?"

Luthor sighed a little impatiently, like Clark was a child who didn't quite comprehend the situation. "What do you get out of it? You don't get paid for this, do you?"

"No. I don't need to be."

"I don't understand."

"It's what I'm destined to do," he said sincerely.

Luthor scoffed. "That's it? You believe you have a duty to us?"

Clark nodded.

"We're not even the same species," he said incredulous.

"I love this world and the people in it. Earth is my home. Helping people, protecting this world. It's a part of me."

He scoffed again. "You can't expect me to be believe this farce is pure altruism."

"I'm afraid you'll have to. My calling is to protect people. It always has been." This didn't seem to clear up anything to him, but at the same time he also seemed almost disappointed. Clark couldn't understand why he would be, but perhaps Mr. Luthor didn't believe in that sort of thing.

"Don't you have a calling, Mr. Luthor?"

"Yes." He smiled a little as he turned toward the window. "You see, I'm a _visionary. _This world, it's so chaotic and barbaric. Ignorant people run rampant, squandering the wealth that this planet has to offer. Stalling progress. Humanity could be on an inexorable march upwards until we are like gods, but there is so much fear and doubt holding us back. Why? Because our leaders are weak. Imagine what humanity could do under the right leadership."

"And you think you can provide that leadership," Clark said slowly.

"Yes. To lead is _my_ calling. But in order for that to happen, I need some help." He turned and looked significantly at Clark.

"I'm a man of business, Superman. I see a resource, I cultivate it to my advantage, and present the benefits to the rest of the world."

Clark could see the end of the tunnel and didn't like where it let out.

His smile was broad and hungry. "You present a very valuable resource. Your abilities, obviously, but also something priceless. Although money offers me power in abundant supply, what I lack is the love and belief of the people which they reserve for you. _They _give you more power than a million suns."

Clark felt a deep sickening sensation and frowned. Vehemently, he refused to be used, especially by someone like Lex Luthor. Luthor didn't notice his disgust, however, as he continued not really speaking to Clark anymore, but lost in his own twisted dream.

"With your help, I-we can finally protect the world. We can make this place perfect and use this planet to its true value, while both of us gain something. You will fulfill your destiny by aiding me in fulfilling mine."

"I don't understand. I thought you saw people like me as a threat."

He chuckled. "I do, but I also find you valuable. You're all just uncultivated resources. You all can serve a purpose. But you need leadership. Your freelancing willy-nilly across the planet just doesn't cut it anymore. You and I working together, it's synergy. We overcome the others' weaknesses."

"What do you want from me?" he said with an edge to his voice.

"I want you to support my legislation and my bid for Senate. If you are willing to register the rest will follow. We can bring them all together, Kal."

"For what purpose?"

He was staring out to the city, but Clark imagined what Lex really saw. He didn't like the picture. Luthor was a pensive statue for a few moments contemplating whatever arrogant thoughts he possessed before he spoke. Although to himself or to Clark, it was hard to tell.

"For the security of mankind."

It was strange. In a way working with Luthor would help him fulfill his destiny of protecting the planet and uniting Peoples, but Clark wondered at what cost? He sensed sincerity in his quest for security, but he was also lusting after power underneath the righteousness.

"I heard your speech today. I doubt any will follow you, regardless if I do."

"So you won't join me?" Luthor's voice dropped to a forced calm.

"No."

When he turned, his face had hardened around the edges and if it was possible, his eyes had become several degrees colder. However, Clark was unperturbed.

"You don't know anything about me. I am not a threat, nor will I be threatened. Or used. And I will not allow you to use other people."

Luthor's jaw tightened. "I'm not threatening you. I'm offering you an opportunity for you to fulfill your destiny."

"You don't understand my destiny."

He shook his head. "I understand you completely, Kal."

Clark didn't betray any emotion except a slight furrow in his brow.

"You're an idealist. If I had the powers you possess," he said softly, "I would use them...differently."

_I imagine. _"Good night, Luthor." Clark turned to fly off in disgust, but not before he heard Luthor say something that gave him pause.

"It's too bad really. I was hoping..."

Clark turned to face him and looked him directly in the eyes. They were hard and cold as steel. His face had lost the veneer of charm and instead showed the deepest loathing.

"Be careful, Superman. It would be a shame if something happened to you."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 **

For about the fifth time that morning Clark caught himself before he rammed into his keyboard. Rarely affected by sleep deprivation, Clark was not envious of that aspect of the human condition and had the unfortunate luck of experiencing it now. He rubbed his eyes. Although he required fewer hours of sleep than humans, he still needed _some_. It was thankfully a beautiful fall morning, so he could recharge properly, but that didn't completely make up for the lack of sleep.

Due to the discovery of the mysterious note compounded by his _conversation _with Lex Luthor, he hadn't slept well over the past few days. His brain would not shut up. Constantly it was trying to understand what Luthor's motives were and if he was actually going to act on his thinly veiled threat. At first he had thought maybe that Luthor was connected to the note, but after a quick search, it appeared that no one at the Daily Planet was connected to him. There were no offshore accounts, no red flags on their permanent record; there was nothing. This had done nothing to help his worries. Flying didn't help calm him; it was only good for allowing him to absorb enough radiation to get through the day. Poor Lois did not have that luxury and she had insomnia just as bad as he did, although for a slightly different reason.

To no avail, they had tried to track the postage of their message. They had watched security footage from the Daily Planet feeds of that day and what they had found left them with more questions than answers. After the first viewing they had been perplexed and had grown more so after every subsequent viewing. No one had laid the letter on Lois' desk; it had simply appeared. One second her desk had been clear and the next there had been the note. The only information they had learned was the exact moment it had appeared. The footage could have been doctored, but it was unlikely as there had been no other signs of alteration and the security guard had sworn he had never left his post.

Ever since, Lois had obsessively watched and re-watched the video footage of that day, not just of the bullpen, but of the entire building. Every free moment she had, she had sat at her laptop with a master list of the Daily Planet staff, scratching off each face that corresponded to the faces that she saw. With the result being the same every time: every person who had been at the Daily Planet was supposed to be there. And there was no reason to suspect any of them.

Initially, Clark had thought of Kassandra. Mysterious from the start, she was extremely astute and immune to Clark's antics. However, as she had stood right in front of Lois at the exact moment the message had appeared, there was no way she could have planted it.

Bothered by these thoughts and unable to assuage them with his usual methods, Clark had done the only thing he could think of: work. He had patrolled more and had delved into their article braving the seediest parts of the internet to get a whole view of the people. He had gone out and gathered opinions from anyone who would talk to him. Every once in a while he had heard a particularly articulate one to directly quote, which he had then followed up with a phone call. For the past few days this was how he and Lois had functioned.

He looked over to see Lois staring glassy-eyed at her computer and he could feel himself starting to doze off again. Then he was jolted awake by Perry yelling for him, Lois, and Kassandra. He wasn't surprised. Now that Luthor was running for Senate their Meta-Human Registration Act story was more lucrative than ever.

He saw Lois take a long swig of what he imagined to be cold coffee and trudged into their editor's office. Kassandra followed her and Clark wasn't far behind them. Although she seemed to be in good spirits, she looked a little tired as well.

As soon as he closed the door, Perry didn't skip a beat. "How's that article coming?"

"We've gotten quotes from citizens and local officials in Metropolis and Smallville," said Clark.

Perry nodded his approval. "Makes sense. Those are the places most affected by the invasion. Good."

"What about cities where there are well-known meta-humans? Like the Flash from Central City?" Kassandra chimed in.

"That's an excellent idea. Lane!" At the sound of her name, Lois jumped a little in her seat and opened her eyes a little wider than necessary. Perry's brow scrunched together momentarily and when he continued he spoke a little more gently.

"You're flying out to Central City. Speak to city officials, local shop owners, parents, teachers; we want the view of the people."

She nodded mutely.

"What about politicians?"

"Uh-Clark and I have interviewed several Senators and Congresspeople via phone about the legislation. Both for and opposed," said Lois.

"Francis and Clay?"

Clark shifted uncomfortably. "They've ignored our calls and every time we've visited their offices we were firmly escorted out of the building."

Perry's jaw tightened in consternation, but he stared at Lois with mild concern. "That doesn't usually hold you back, Lane. What's up?"

Lois hesitated and Clark looked away a little ashamed. As she had been so preoccupied helping him with his personal mysteries, she was unable to perform at her normal fiery level of investigative journalism. For the first time he was holding her back and he didn't like it.

"I've been a little distracted," she finally said.

"Well get focused." Turning from them he pressed a key on his computer. On the screen was the same newscaster who reported Luthor's press conference. It was a video of a news broadcast.

"Lex Luthor has made a statement doubling down on his commitment to meta-human registration."

The scene cut to a commercial of Lex Luthor speaking:

"'Truly, I want nothing more than cooperation. But if these people will not do so willingly, perhaps there would be justification for force. I have begun to think that if they have nothing to hide, why would they be fighting so vehemently to stop this legislation? Why would they be so against even the thought of registering? I think those are questions we should all be asking ourselves as we move forward.'"

The scene changed back to the newscaster:

"Critics see his statements as a little overly suspicious. However according to a recent poll now 35% of Americans support legislation that would require meta-humans to register to a public list. That's a 5% jump from the last polling."

Although initially surprised by Luthor's more aggressive tactics toward meta-humans, Clark realized that Superman had probably nudged him in that direction. Not only had he influenced Luthor in the opposite way he had hoped for, this change in approach was probably what triggered the increase in support for the legislation. As part of his destiny was to unite Peoples, that he had inadvertently caused a deeper division was a disheartening thought.

His emotions were mirrored by the dismay on Lois' and Kassandra's faces and the way Perry jabbed the pause button a little too violently.

"This legislation is going into light-speed and you three are barely keeping up. Lee-Ahn!" Kassandra jumped at being addressed so brusquely. "Where are you in determining the constitutionality of the bill?"

"I've studied extensively and spoken to several of my law professors. On the surface the law could be unconstitutional in that it could violate the 4th Amendment, possibly the 9th as well; and one could argue that it would violate the liberty clauses of the 14th Amendment: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. But if there was a national crisis, the legislation could stay. For example the Patriot Act would probably have never passed without the terrorist attacks on 9/11."

"Which means if something happens that is perpetrated by a meta-human or group of meta-humans..," Clark said slowly.

"The legislation would have no trouble being expedited to law of the land," Lois finished grimly.

* * *

><p>It seemed his life was crumbling around him. The carefully crafted walls he had made in the form of the Daily Planet, Lois, Metropolis, and his superhero destiny were all tumbling down like they were made of cardboard while Luthor and his friends held a hose. Meanwhile some unknown person (or persons) was stomping on the remains. On both sides he was being attacked: as Superman and as Clark Kent. And he didn't know where to send the offenses first.<p>

"Should Superman make a statement about the legislation?" he asked Lois quietly.

Lois knit her brows together thoughtfully. "No. Superman shouldn't get involved in politics. You promised that you wouldn't fight against America's interests, but that doesn't mean you should march on Capitol Hill with demands or even suggestions. Besides, Superman isn't just a citizen of the United States; he's a citizen of the world."

He nodded. She was right. In order to protect the world, on the political front Superman had to stay neutral.

"But Clark Kent on the other hand," she said with a plucky smile, "always should."

He smiled.

If they hadn't been head first in this story before they were bodily below the surface now.

When Kassandra wasn't on the phone trying to contact Congresspeople or interviewing judges for their opinions on the legislation, she was pouring over law books and the transcript of the bill itself, searching every detail for a point of questionable constitutionality. It occurred to Clark that not only was she making a case for it to stay only a bill, but was also building a case in defense of meta-humans in the case that the bill became law.

Lois and Clark were pouring over their notes and were constructing the skeleton of the article: where each piece of the puzzle would go, who would write what, and how it would flow. There was still some meat to add to it though.

While Lois went to Central City, Kassandra and Clark caught the next flight to Washington D.C. to speak with the legislators in person, but also get the public aspect of the debate. For over two days now, hundreds of protestors both for and opposed stood outside the Congressional building. Clark was determined to interview people from each side, while Kassandra was determined to get the opinions of the Supreme Court Justices.

They arrived early in the morning and already the crowd had gathered and begun their chanting. The din outside of Congress was massive. It was like waves crashing in a storm. One could barely understand what either side was shouting, however their beliefs were laid out plainly as many of the protestors carried signs. Contrasting emotions were splashed across white boards in permanent marker.

As a reporter he was after the truth, not sensationalism and unfair assumptions, so Clark decided to not accept these signs at face value. He wanted-needed-to know the story behind these placards. As he weaved through the assembly, he tried to talk to as many people as possible. And after nearly three hours of listening to people as well as he could, he needed a break. He sat on a bench away from the protestors, but he could still hear them. With a hollow heart and perhaps he was indulging a masochistic side of him, he read the words of the people who hated and feared him, and those like him.

A few of them were the usual hateful rhetoric:

"'They are dangerous! We have a right to protect ourselves!'"

"'They're freaks of nature and they should be sent away!'"

"'They are terrorists!'"

A lot of them, however, weren't so bad. In fact they were unfortunately reasonable:

"'I know that most of them are harmless, but I don't know. How can you tell the difference between the good ones and the bad ones?'"

"'We deserve to know who these people are. I mean we register people to carry guns and these people are more powerful than guns.'"

"'I don't hate them. I just—don't trust them. I mean absolute power corrupts absolutely, right?'"

The last one cut him like a knife:

"'When I first heard about the law, I thought it was wrong. But I have to admit I'm a little scared. I don't know if I trust them. I want to because of all that the heroes do for us, but the rest of them, I don't know. If only they had a way to represent themselves. Especially the superheroes. If they would come out into the open and let the public decide, like with Superman, we could trust them. I mean sometimes we can't even trust the police, but at least they have to follow rules. What rules do these meta-humans and superheroes follow?'"

It was what his father had foretold. So many people were afraid. The thought saddened Clark, but begrudgingly he had to admit some of them were right. There was no code among heroes. No accountability. The rest of the world only trusted Superman because he literally saved the world and even his popularity wasn't universal. There had to be a way to forge a trust between them; not just between superheroes and citizens, but also between meta-humans and other humans. But he had no ideas.

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice asked.

It was Kassandra. She looked exhausted. Her suit was slightly disheveled and her hair had strands flying away from her face. She also looked concerned.

"Yeah," he said softly.

As she sat next to him on the bench, she raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief. He sighed.

"I'm worried about this legislation. From what we have-"

"-it doesn't seem impossible that it will pass," she finished a little glumly.

Clark nodded. "It's disappointingly popular and they actually have good reasons. Everyone is afraid."

She sighed. "People are afraid of what they don't understand."

"I know. And it's my responsibility to unite people, but I don't know what to do!"

"It's your responsibility?" she asked, looking at him strangely.

"Well...isn't it everyone's?"

"I suppose, yeah," she said slowly.

Clark took a deep breath and avoided her eyes. He had to control his emotions. He was already under enough surveillance, he didn't need Kassandra suspecting him more too. He heard her sigh again.

"I understand. I'm worried too, but in my heart, I don't think it's going to pass."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because I have faith," she said without hesitation.

Clark looked away from her. As the Earth's hero, he needed faith. In truth and good, but especially in humanity. But he felt ashamed to admit that over the past month and half his faith had been strained.

"You know this may surprise you," she said with an eye roll, "but I've experienced my fair share of discrimination."

He looked at her a little sadly and she grimaced.

"When I go to the grocery store, it's happened where I am complimented on how good my English is or it's just assumed that I don't know English so the cashier speaks really loudly. Then I say 'thank you' in my American accent and it's awkward for them and kind of funny for me."

Clark gave her a confused look.

"It does bother me. Even in the 21st century people hold onto archaic and prejudiced beliefs that influence their interactions with people who are different from they are. Sometimes they're annoying. Sometimes they're hurtful. Sometimes they're soul-crushing...and sometimes they're tragic. But I still have faith. You know why?"

Clark shook his head.

"Look at all of those people out there." She gestured toward the protestors against the legislation. The crowd was a sea of differences, but they chanted as one.

"Racism, sexism, all of those 'isms' that are the cause of so many problems, they still exist. There are still those who cling to those beliefs like scripture. Every day some one fights for those divisions between humanity."

She looked out at the crowd of people who were shouting against the legislation.

"And every day some one is fighting against them. With every generation their ranks grow. There is more tolerance and acceptance and less fear in the world today, then there was yesterday. So I have every reason to believe that things will continue to improve until one day we will see the world finally at peace."

She paused and looked at her hands for a moment before she continued.

"This thing with meta-humans will follow a similar path. It's inevitable that meta-humans will change our society and how we live in it. The process will be scary and long and dangerous. But for the sake of humanity, all the struggles will be worth it. Those people, you, Lois, and I all know that and will fight for that future where we are united as a _human family_. So as long as those people exist, I will never lose faith."

Grateful, Clark smiled at her, but he wasn't entirely convinced. She took his notebook from him and after a few seconds, she frowned.

"It looks like you only have one side of the story," she said, handing his notebook back to him. She cast her eyes over to the opposing side significantly and smiled.

So Clark spent the rest of the morning on the other side of the line. And he began to understand why Kassandra was so positive about the future.

"'These people are powerful, but so many of them fight to defend us.'"

"'Many of them who are discovered are victims of violence.'"

"'They didn't choose to be born this way. They shouldn't be subject to differential treatment because of fear.'"

"'It's true the police can't handle attacks from meta-humans, but that doesn't mean all of them are bad. In fact, shouldn't we be asking them for help?'"

"'They are born with these gifts for a reason. Who are we to deny them the chance to better humanity with their natural gifts?'"

"'There's a lot of mistrust between us and them; I understand that. But forcing them to out themselves is not the way to forge a good relationship. There's got to be a better way than this. They have as much a right to live freely as any one else. So we have to try.'"

Heartened by these words, Clark, for a moment, allowed himself to hope.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I did not invent the term 'meta-gene'. The series Young Justice is owed that credit. **

**Chapter 11**

All of the quotes were taken. Clark was even able to track down Senator Francis and Clay and get a few words out of them. Kassandra had finished her legal analysis of the legislation. They worked all day and night over the weekend combining notes to create the completed article.

Their article was published in the first edition of the October 1st paper on the front page and the Daily Planet website:

"Throughout human history, whenever two groups of people with differing ideologies, religions, even looks would meet these differences would sometimes lead to misunderstanding and war. In modern times, humanity still endures conflicts based on these reasons. However we pride ourselves on the progress that we have made in fostering tolerance and acceptance across social groups. Our lacking perfection in this progress aside, few people would attest that life today is the same or worse than life was just 40 years ago. Nevertheless recent events make it evident that humanity has far to go on its path to peace and prosperity for all peoples, and is still afflicted with the prejudices and fears of yesterday.

Six months ago an unprecendented event took place in which we learned that we are not alone in the universe and that that other life could possess abilities beyond our imaginations. This astonishment was compounded by the discovery that individuals with extraordinary abilities exist on _this_ planet. Although superheroes have existed for a while now such as the Flash in Central City, Aquaman, Batman in Gotham, and the Green Arrow in Star City, many believed that people with extra abilities gained them by accident. Curiosity into the process that would allow seemingly average individuals to gain abilities from accidents that should have otherwise killed them led the scientific community to the deeper study of human genetics and eventually the realization that this capability is ingrained in certain people from birth. Cadmus Labs discovered what they have dubbed the 'meta-gene' and call the people with this extra active gene 'meta-humans'. Although fascinating to the scientific community, the public has greeted meta-humans with some trepidation.

In a way it is understandable by the rest of humanity to be wary of such individuals as they could possess extraordinary powers. But this fear has been expanded into the form of legislation that is now on the floor of Congress. It is our opinion that the passage of such legislation would be a grave and wrong choice.

The Meta-Human Registration Act, also known as Security for Americans Act, is a bill that was composed by several members of the House and Senate. At the forefront are the Senators James Francis (R) PA and Richard Clay (D) NY. In the past they have been vocal about superhero activity seeing them as vigilantes that interfere with police investigations and struck a controversial cord when they voted against Superman's honorary United States citizenship. As such their participation comes as no surprise. What is confounding about this legislation is the involvement of Lex Luthor the CEO of Lexcorp. Although he hasn't been shy about his disdain for Superman for the damage to his property during the Metropolis invasion, he has never given comment about the existence of other superheroes. Nor has he expressed interest in pursuing a political office. This leads to a troubling conclusion to what end this legislation will serve.

This legislation would require all meta-humans to register in a government census. The census would entail giving out personally identifiable information such as social security numbers, driver's license numbers, addresses, and phone numbers. They would also be required to list their abilities. In conjunction with these criteria, any meta-human engaging in crime fighting activity would have to identify themselves and work cooperatively with local authorities.

The Senators and Luthor cite the increase in hero activity is in relationship to recent increases in criminal activity, especially crimes perpetrated by meta-humans, whom some have called super-villians. They claim that meta-humans pose 'an unique and considerable danger' to the American people and that this legislation would help prevent damage to American welfare. However both the Senators and Lex Luthor refuse to acknowledge that the meta-human criminals in question are most effectively stopped by superheroes or in other words, other super-powered people.

Although a few proponents have slipped into some xenophobic rhetoric, stating the individuals are 'freaks of nature', most agree with the forgers of the bill stating what they believe is an obvious truth: these people are dangerous and need to be watched. They say that they would be doing other Americans a disservice if they didn't protect them. Others feel that not all meta-humans are dangerous, but don't know of a way to tell the difference between a helpful and a hurtful person. Their distrust stems from the fact that although the superheroes are helpful, they don't follow any known rules as one protestor stated outside the Congressional Building:

'If only they had a way to represent themselves. Especially the superheroes. If they would come out into the open and let the public decide, like with Superman, we could trust them. Sometimes we can't even trust the police. But at least they have to follow rules. What rules do these meta-humans or superheroes follow?'

Critics state several concerns about the legislation. One of which is the violence against meta-humans that are discovered. And that fear should not be the basis of laws. From a legal standpoint some argue that this legislation would violate constitutional rights, for example the right to privacy.

Whether or not the Constitution protects the right to privacy ultimately depends on the opinion of the Justice interpreting the Constitution. Some take a narrow view, while others view the Bill of Rights as encompassing a general right to privacy as the 9th amendment states to protect enumerated rights not explicitly expressed in the Bill of Rights. As well as the 4th amendment which protects citizens from unreasonable searches and seizures without probable cause. It is possible to cite violations of 14th amendment's rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as many meta-humans if they are found out are subject to unlawful searches, discrimination in the workforce, and even violence. However one should note that in times of crisis often legislation is passed that would otherwise never be considered.

Despite the disparity in feelings toward the legislation both sides agree that the public should ultimately vote on this decision. Not only because it would be the American thing to do, but some reason that they would wish a vote would occur out of loyalty to their heroes.

'These people are powerful, but so many of them fight to defend us,' said a protestor against the legislation.

'Even if this law is passed it won't stop any violence perpetrated by meta-humans. The only way to stop a bad meta-human is with the aid of a good meta-human,' said a local merchant from Metropolis.

In every city where super-heroes reside, local officials and the common people have lauded them as a bastion of morality and justice. Even the town of Smallville and the city of Metropolis, two places where the citizenry would be most justified in their hesitance to trust powerful people, have almost unanimously rallied behind Superman and other superheroes. Why?

Because they represent the power behind the good they do. They represent their communities and protect them from threats the police and other forces would be unable to attend to. When our entire world was threatened by an alien military force, our own strength was too weak to stop them, but we put our hope into a man who so loved the world that he sacrificed his own to save ours. They are some of the best humanity has to offer; standing side by side with our men and women in uniform to protect and serve. These heroes in these cities put their lives on the line without anyone knowing their true names. They do this not for glory, but for what is right. They do what they do to inspire us to listen to our better angels and become heroes ourselves.

A meta-human could one day become a super-villain, but he or she could also become a superhero. Or they could spend the rest of their lives as loyal citizens working to better humanity in their own, perhaps more private way. Going about their lives like everyone else inherently they deserve the chance to prove to the world that they are not to be feared as they could be our greatest allies in fighting whatever dangers we face.

The future is uncertain. And it is our opinion that we should trust in hope that all people have the capacity for good. 'It is not our abilities that show what we truly are; it is our choices.' Right now we face a difficult choice: to be controlled by fear or led by hope."

* * *

><p>He and Lois were different in approaching the publishing of their articles. Lois loved to read the comments they garnered if only for the satisfaction of informing people while possibly ruffling a few feathers in the process. Clark however liked to absorb the quiet before the storm of Internet commentary. So with the printing of his article, Clark was above the clouds on patrol. No matter how it was received he knew that he, Lois, and Kassandra had done their best. Even so he was nervous to read the comments that it would generate. The Facebook statuses, the tweets, the blog posts. At least it would create a conversation. Clark grimaced. The Internet rarely had 'conversations'.<p>

Most of the time with his articles he generally avoided the comment section for his sanity's sake, but when he did trek into that dangerous territory, the comments bounced off him like bullets. He was adept at spotting and ignoring trolls and frankly he didn't have time for just unpleasant people. Always open to constructive criticism, justly correction, and healthy debate, Clark actually appreciated those comments, but the moment the name-calling and fighting started he would disable the comment section swiftly. Whatever he wrote about was of importance to him, but he chose to not see those comments as a personal attack on him. This article was different though. It felt as though this was a personal confession of his own frustrations about being super-powered in a world that greatly feared that. This was personal.

He had lived through ostracization and verbal and physical abuse. And it was horrible. The only reason he had come out of Smallville with a good heart and head was because of his parents. Some other people weren't so lucky and he didn't want anyone else to live through that.

His thoughts were interrupted when suddenly Clark heard sirens. Clark was glad for the interruption and the opportunity to lead through hope. He zeroed in on the police dispatcher:

"Robbery. 211S at Metro-1 Bank on 47th and Baker St."

Clark descended upon the robbery calmly. It was the usual fare: people in black clothes wearing transparent, but obscuring masks. Two men and one woman were waving around their guns and barking orders for everyone to stay on the ground. Meanwhile another woman and man pair stood behind the tellers with guns trained on their heads as they shoveled money into open bags.

Clark zipped in and knocked all of them down with very little effort. The patrons looked around cautiously.

"It's alright everyone. The police are on their way," he said confidently.

"Superman!" A boy in a t-shirt and jeans called out and pointed directly behind Clark.

He turned to see one of the robbers pointing a gun at him. This robber was tall and muscular. He could tell that underneath his mask his face was angular and his eyes were black as night. More annoyed that the man recovered consciousness so quickly, he walked with authority, but with no degree of fear. He walked closer though more slowly this time. Not of his own volition as somehow his muscles felt heavier than usual and he felt a small ache in his right temple.

"Put the gun down and no one will get hurt." He said sternly, but he swallowed thickly. He looked at the gun briefly. What did that criminal have to gain by shooting him? It was strange. Although Clark did notice that this gun was a different weapon he was using than before. It had slots cut into the side of a silver metal and the inside of the gun glowed a slight green.

"Let's agree to disagree," the man said menacingly.

The other burglars were regaining consciousness. Apparently he hadn't hit them that hard enough. When they saw him they all pulled out weapons similar to the first man. They were all glowing green on the inside. His limbs weren't working and it took a great deal of effort to stand straight. It was like his body was slowly filling with lead. He blinked trying to clear the fuzziness from his eyes, but it didn't work. Nothing worked.

"Are you feeling alright Superman?" one of the other men surrounding him asked him mockingly. He was tall and wiry.

"Yeah," said a lithe and muscular woman standing to his right, "you're looking a little green."

The stout one and the red-head at the teller station remained silent.

There was a ripple of laughter. From the corner of his eye he saw a stout one move to strike him, he dodged the blow, grabbed his arm and threw him into the wiry one. Momentarily distracted by the display, he was able to super-speed to the woman, bat the gun out of the way and push her into the wall. The only ones left was the stout one and the red-head. Both of whom were shouting.

"Shoot him! Shoot him now!"

The red-head pulled the trigger, but it jammed. She hit it repeatedly allowing Clark to fly over the teller's station and push her to the ground. Then he pulled the stout man's legs out from under him. He heard him land with a thud.

Clark was panting and sweating as he walked slowly around the station toward the entrance of the bank. He could hear sirens outside.

"Superman!"

It was the boy from before. Clark turned just in time to see a flash and hear a gun fire. The man's black eyes were glittering. Clark looked down and confusedly touched his hand to his chest. When he removed it his hand was stained red, he was confused at first almost curious about this red liquid coming out of him, but then fire ripped through his body. It was a pain he had never experienced before. Intense burning in his veins. Like acid. It consumed him from head to foot, until he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

**"It is not our abilities that show what we truly are; it is our choices." Professor Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (movie)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Clark opened his eyes.

For a second he was confused. The flat corporate looking room of the bank was replaced by vaulted stone and a massive skylight. Picturesque and beautiful matching utility with aestheticism. He knew this place. It was somewhere he had visited so many times in his dreams, but this was very different from any of those.

The stone building stood eerily silent. The air was stagnant and smelled of nothing. Broken stones littered the space, as light spread from the shattered skylight. The train station was just the same as it was that day. Except everything was grayer. Although not vibrant to begin with, the colors were muted and static, like he was looking at everything through a thin film of dust. The light was cold and remote and the entire place was absolutely empty. The family he had saved was gone, so were the people who had fled the scene of battle. His footsteps echoed throughout the building that was completely devoid of life.

_How did I get here?_

Clark closed his eyes and tried to remember. Everything came to him in broken images. Glowing green light, distorted faces, the flash of a gun barrel, and unbearable agony.

Looking down at his body, he tentatively searched it and found no marks nor stains on his uniform, but he was surprised to see his uniform looked washed out. He was completely uninjured. And alone.

"Hello, Kal."

He froze. That voice. He knew that voice too well, but there was no way he could be there. Clark turned around slowly in cold dread to see the owner of the voice. The man who haunted his dreams and his waking life. The man who could have singlehandedly destroyed his world, and whom Clark had destroyed.

It was Zod.

"Or do you prefer Clark? You sacrificed your Kryptonian heritage, why keep your Kryptonian name?" he asked with a cold anger.

Clark didn't answer. A thrill of fear passed through him. Although he knew that Zod could not harm him, his very presence gave him chills. Zod looked exactly the same as he had that day. Just as powerful. Just as regal. Just as solidly pronounced in the stark contrast of this world as he had been in life. He was uninjured and almost seemed healthy except for the obvious fact that he wasn't real. He couldn't be. Still Clark looked around him searching for a way out of this place. And away from _him_.

"There's no way out. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

Clark ignored him and walked toward the stairs.

"There's no point."

Tuning out his voice, Clark walked stubbornly up the stairs and through the door to find himself at the top of the stairs facing the same room again.

"I told you," Zod said slightly amused. Clark glared at him before he continued ignoring him.

"I must be dreaming," he said softly, looking everywhere, but in Zod's direction.

"No, you're dead," Zod said with a voice as hard as the stone on which he sat.

Clark turned to look at him unbelieving, but Zod's smirk was all the proof he needed. A hollowness over took him. He stared at his hands which were cold and shaking. Taking stock of the rest of himself, he realized the strength that once resided there was gone. His body felt heavy, but insubstantial. It was too surreal to be anything, but the truth.

He was dead.

"I only regret I wasn't the one to dispatch you." Zod's face was emotionless. It was as if he was made of stone.

"What is this place?" Clark asked breathlessly, not really wanting the answer.

He looked around thoughtfully before he spoke. "I don't know for sure what this place is. I was never a devoutly religious man, but I imagine this is some sort of reality in between life and death. I do think I know why it takes this form, though."

Clark just stared at him expectantly. It was pointless to ignore him now.

Gesturing around him he said, "This is the place where it all started. Where you decided whom you were going to be."

Clark narrowed his eyes. "I don't understand."

He smiled coldly.

"Do you know how many lives I've ended, Kal?"

Clark shook his head. During their brief interaction, Clark had wondered, but never deeply pondered how many people Zod had killed.

"Memories of life are often vague in death, I've found. In this...purgatory, it's no different. But it's like a poetic justice for killers, memories of blood shed never fade."

Zod stood from his perch and turned away from Clark pensive, as though he was trying to calculate the number.

"I've lost count," he said surprised. "There were enough skirmishes on Krypton to fill a hundred tombs, and I'm sure I sent the majority of the occupants there. If not directly, then on my orders. Wars tend to run together. No matter how many bleed, all the blood pools in a single spot."

Clark tried and failed to cast out that mental image.

"But I do remember the first time," he said finally facing Clark with something akin to sadness in his eyes.

"I was a young man fresh out of basic training thrust into a civil unrest that had broken out on Krypton during my schooling. An anarchist group was raizing homes in the southern most sector of the planet in protest of the council's presence or something I can't really recall. Nonetheless troops were sent to stop them, and we were sent to find survivors. It was a city that I had never visited and I can't remember the name, but I do know that when we arrived, it was utter destruction. Bodies were strewn about amongst the rubble, like fruit broken on rocks; bent in unnatural ways, their last thoughts on their faces each one more horrible than the next. I was shocked and sickened and I hoped with all my heart to find someone alive.

"Desperately, I ventured out on my own to search. I was gone for what seemed like hours and found no one until I heard very faintly moaning coming not too far from me. You can't imagine my exhilaration to hear that sound. Immediately I rushed to the person."

Zod closed his eyes. "I can see him so clearly. His leg was crushed by a boulder. He was barely clinging to consciousness when I found him. He was at most my age and his eyes were a beautiful crystal blue. I was eager to help him, but I stopped when I saw his clothes. They bore the insignia of the anarchist group. His comrades had abandoned him in the fray and left him for dead. I knew he didn't have much time. He was dehydrated and was being baked in the sun, if I left him there I knew he would die..."

* * *

><p>"Please help me," the young man begged.<p>

Stones were strewn about, scorched and burned from plasma, and stained with the blood of so many: soldier, civilian, and anarchist alike. Bodies lain limp and broken surrounding him and the young man. It took all his focus to only look at the man, though his visage was hardly comforting.

Dru-Zod was torn between his duty as a soldier and his heart as a Kryptonian. This man was his enemy who stood for everything against the character of a true Kryptonian: acceptance of one's destiny and honor in duty to the planet and all Kryptonians. But the man was immobilized and harmless in his state. It was doubtful he would try to escape...and he was still a Kryptonian.

His heart won out and Dru swung is weapon onto his back to more easily search for something he could use as a lever to lift the boulder from the man's leg. By Rao, he found a pole nearby and away from any bodies. He was able to achieve the proper leverage to relieve the man from his confinement, but the boulder was still much too heavy for him. He was lost in his thoughts to fix the situation when he heard a stentorian voice behind him.

"Private Zod!"

He turned to see his men and his commander running down the ridge towards him and the injured man. Dru called out to them eagerly. The young man looked up in fear.

"It's alright," Dru said gently. He trusted his commander; he would know what to do. His commander walked proudly toward him, while his comrades stayed a short distance away.

"Commander, this man is trapped, but alive. I need help freeing him."

While his commander inspected the man, Dru grabbed another rod from the rubble and placed it underneath the stone for his commander, but he did not take it. Instead he looked at Dru disgusted and turned away.

"Commander?" Dru asked. Commander Tor-An gestured to Zod to come to him. He set the rods aside and looked reassuringly at the young man before joining his commander.

"We will not help this man," his commander said sternly.

"What?" Dru asked aghast.

"The only thing this man deserves is death. He should rot with his ruin," he said as he sent a glare in the man's direction.

Flabbergasted for a moment, Zod quickly regained his composure. "Commander, I think we should arrest him and bring him before the council for judgement. But first we need to help him."

"Who's the one in charge here, _Private_ Zod?" he asked sharply.

Dru-Zod's hands were shaking. Commander Tor-An had a reputation for leading with an iron hand. Dru respected and feared him for his discipline. Still he was a warrior and a warrior had nothing if he did not have honor. A killing of this sort would be shameful to both involved.

"You are, sir. But it would be wrong to kill this man like this. We should free him from the boulder and bring him before the council."

His commander glared at him and his heart sped up.

"Private Dru Zod. Look around you. Do you not see what this man and his ilk have done?" he asked in a quiet fierce voice.

He lowered his chin a little, but stood his ground.

"Yes, sir. And before the council he will receive just judgement," he told his commander beseeching him.

"He will receive judgement," the gruff commander pushed Zod over to the man. "From you. Strike him down, Zod," he ordered.

"But sir-" He looked between him and the man on the ground desperately.

"Your job is to dispense justice. Do it!" his commander yelled.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Zod slowly pulled his weapon from his back and trained it on the man whose eyes widened in alarm and betrayal.

"Please," the man whimpered. "Please don't."

The cool metal was slippery against his sweaty hands. His heart was pounding like thunder in his ears.

His commander walked over to him and stood behind him. Dru could feel his breath on his neck as he spoke.

"Do it, Dru," he said. "He is our enemy. He ransacked a city. He _murdered_ hundreds of thousands of innocent people. Why won't you avenge their deaths?"

Dru's muscles twitched in his face as he gripped the sides of his weapon carefully avoiding the trigger. Desperately, he turned to his commander.

"I-I can't. Commander, please!"

"Did he do this?" He gestured out to the desolate scene surrounding them.

"Yes," Dru said quietly.

"Does he not deserve to die?"

"...Yes," he said his voice barely above a whisper, "but not like this."

"Yes, like this. Kill him!" he yelled.

"No, please...," the man cried weakly.

Zod looked at his comrades pleading them to support him. If one could join his side, maybe his commander would listen. Or maybe his commander would kill them instead.

"Please...please don't..."

"Kill him!"

Zod stared into the man's eyes.

"KILL HIM!"

Suddenly a blast of energy ejected from his rifle into the prone man. Time stopped.

* * *

><p>"...I don't even remember pulling the trigger. But I remember watching the light leave his eyes until they were hollow. Hearing his whimpering stop. I remember him become too still, and the cold weight of my gun in my hand..."<p>

He looked at Clark with something akin to regret.

"And I remember what my commander said to me."

* * *

><p>Zod numbly let his rifle hang at his side. His chest was tight with what he had done. He was so lost he barely registered his commander behind him until he placed a hand on his shoulder.<p>

"I'm proud of you, Zod."

Zod looked at him pained from his words.

"Remember this: you are a protector of Krypton. In order to do your duty, you need to learn what true justice is. And although the council has it's purpose, one day you will learn it is not the authority on that. You are."

* * *

><p>"That was the day I learned who I was. My defining moment. The first step in a long path to become whom I was meant to be: a champion for Kryptonian justice. And from that day on I knew that if justice was to be served, sacrifices had to be made," he spoke in quiet passion.<p>

"But you didn't want to kill him; you were ordered to," Clark insisted.

"I still did it. Nothing can change that. Nothing can change anything that I've done."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because that day in this place you learned the same lesson."

Those words were like a punch to his heart. "I don't understand."

Zod smiled a little. "I haven't finished the story."

Clark leaned away, waiting, but hoping Zod wouldn't finish.

"I didn't want to kill him, you're right. But when I did...a part of me was glad. I got a taste of the dark power that taking a life gives you. And I liked it. Because although I didn't admit it then, it _was _true justice."

Zod walked towards him. Not menacingly, but his approach offered no comfort.

"So you may not have wanted to end my life. You didn't have a choice, really. But be honest with yourself, Clark. In your heart...deep down...you're glad I'm gone. And if you had the chance to go back and change that day, you would do exactly the same thing."

"No," Clark said defiantly. That was not true. It couldn't be.

He was inches from his face now. Clark knew that Zod wouldn't hurt him. His words were enough. "Because you know in your heart, that was true justice."

"No," he said a little more forcefully. He would never see death as that. He believed in people. He believed in second chances.

"Look at yourself, Kal-El. Really look."

Zod was staring at his chest. With dread, Clark followed his eyes to see his uniform had changed. His usual red and blue was replaced with a cold black and silver.

"No," he said desperately.

Zod smiled.

"No!"

An excruciating pain cut through his shoulder and chest. He cried out in agony until just as suddenly as it appeared, there was a release in his body. Something warm and powerful energized him, but somehow he was falling through a whirl of mist and shadow, then there was light and he could hear so many things that he couldn't recognize.

"Kal!" cried a voice. It wasn't Zod's. It was warm and lovely; she sounded so scared.

_Lois_.

With a rush he solidly collapsed into his body, but an aching pain still raked throughout him. With blurry eyes, he saw strange and disjointed images. Lois' head floated above him, her eyes were worried and brimming with tears. There was another person there, but her face was obscured by a shadow across it. All he could see were her eyes and he found them unusual.

"We need take him somewhere safe," said the stranger, her voice echoed in his head and it sounded vaguely familiar. He dimly wondered who it was and where they were going as he slipped back into blackness, worrying a little if he would see Zod again.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Updated.**

**Chapter 13**

Pain. All he could remember was pain. A deep, penetrating, spreading like fire through a forest during a drought kind of pain. Trapped in a limbo of wakefulness and sleep he was bombarded with fractured memories. There had been a robbery at a bank. Hostages. He had come to help, but something had been wrong. He had been weak and uncoördinated. The sensation he had thought was similar to the weakness he had felt on the Black Zero. He couldn't see straight and his limbs had felt heavy. He had fought through it and incapacitated them.

Then there had been a gun barrel and he could see the bullet glowing green. How could a bullet glow? Then that pain had been inside him and it had spread across his chest and down his abdomen and into his arm. It had been like molten lava in his veins. Then...he had died. And...

Whatever had happened after waking up, he couldn't recall clearly. There was Lois and another face masked in black. In his delirium he thought that it had been the angel of death hovering above him.

As he slipped back into consciousness the pain became real, but not as strong as his memory. It was more of a dull ache now. Clark opened his eyes, groggy and his brain slowly registered a familiar bedroom. _His_ bedroom. On the farm. How was he there? He tried to sit up, but was stopped by a gentle hand on his chest.

"Don't move, honey. You need to rest," said a comforting voice.

"Lois?"

"Hi," she said her voice cracking, but he could hear her smile.

"What happened?" Clark croaked.

"You were shot."

"With what?" he asked incredulously.

Lois looked away uncomfortably. "We're not sure," she spoke slowly.

Whatever that bullet was made of hurt him. A lot. It had been a greater pain than anything he had ever felt. More than Zod punching him. More than the sentinel bot in the scout ship. It was a penetrating pain, that lingered long after it's removal. Like a sunburn. And that worried him.

"There was a woman," she continued. "She removed it and took it with her."

Clark looked up at her with wide eyes. "What woman-" And then everything was a little clearer.

The angel of death was no celestial being; it was a masked woman in black who had come to his aid. Who was she? Why was she there? Why would she take the bullet with her? His mind kept shifting from one concern to the next until he remembered the question he had when he woke.

"Lois, how did we get to the farm?"

"I'm not sure," she was at a loss for words. "She _teleported_ us here."

Clark swallowed dryly and raised his eyebrows. Teleported? A meta-human, maybe? That would almost explain why she helped him. Among meta-humans he was a champion and a beacon of hope though he presumed it served a different definition for them than other humans. If people could accept a super-powered alien then surely they could accept a super-powered human. The possibility that he had a meta-human ally gave him little comfort as there was another problem implicated in the situation.

"Here? How did she..." He groaned. His head hurt so much it was difficult to speak.

"I don't know, Clark. I didn't direct her here," she said delicately.

His eyes widened fearfully. "She knows who I am." Then something worse occurred to him. "She knows who _you_ are."

Lois was silent, but her eyes spoke clearly. It was the truth.

"That means you're in danger. Mom-" He tried to get up again, but only to be stopped by Lois' hands and he was surprised that she could hold him down.

"Clark, _you_ were in danger. And now you're not. Don't worry about your Mom and me, okay? We're both willing to risk our lives for you."

He opened his mouth to protest when she placed a finger on his lips. "Better here than at a hospital."

He couldn't argue with that. With his alien heritage he had always shied away from hospitals and doctors. Though of course, he had never needed one until now. Still the anxiety over the current situation roused him out of his thoughts again.

"Lois-"

"Clark, lie down," she ordered gently. "Just rest for now. It'll be better when the sun rises."

Lovingly she kissed his forehead and eased him back onto his pillow. As Clark leaned back into his pillow, a sickening sense filling him akin to the bullet, but worse. He still wanted to talk about this, but he was too tired and slipped into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>The rays of Sol caressed his face and woke him. Within seconds he felt the warmth fill him and begin to renew his strength. Achingly he sat up in his bed and slowly stood up to walk to his window. Craving more sunlight and feeling more energized, he went down the stairs to stand in full view of the morning sun outside. There he bathed himself in the light and breathed deeply. The power in his limbs was returning and he felt the energy mold his skin whole again. Relieved from the pain, Clark could momentarily revel in the feeling of being recovered if only physically.<p>

The mental wound from the previous night—the previous weeks—weighed on him. Each thought swirled around the next in an increasingly dizzying and distressing dance until he had to sit. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the warmth of the Sun and the steady rhythm of Lois' heart, and tried to sort through his troubling thoughts.

Clark closed his eyes reviewing the details of the ordeal. There was the bank, the criminals, the gun barrel, the bullet and the woman who helped him.

The first and most important detail: he had a weakness. It was some sort of green something; something that could be formed into a bullet. What was it? How did it hurt him? Where are on Earth could there be something capable of causing him physical pain? Having travelled most of his adult life if its origins were Terran he would have encountered an object that could do that and he never had. The only time he had ever felt pain was when he was attacked by something Kryptonian made.

The military _had_ gathered the remains of the scout ship and the world engine. But the bullet had not been made of any Kryptonian metal he had seen before. Besides no one in the military would allow one of their weapons to fall so easily into the hands of criminals. Nor would they test that kind of weaponry in a place so blatantly public as to endanger the lives of the citizenry and risk exposure from the media.

The origins of this object was a dead-end so he moved on to the next detail. At least one other person knew of his weakness, but probably more. One of these people could be a friend or it was someone messing with him. Another one, whom he could assume was the meta-human who had assisted him, was a possible ally. The likelihood of her involvement in the note seemed high as she knew exactly how to help him.

He sighed frustrated. There were more players on the board than he could see. The person who attacked him was a common thief, so it was unlikely that he was the mastermind behind the formation of those bullets. Who was the architect of this plan? The men in the bank were probably at the Metropolis Police Station and Lois had a contact at the Metropolis police department. If they could question them, then they could trace back the weapons to their supplier and get to the one who orchestrated this.

Clark heard the sound of Lois' feet. His mother was gone for the day, so they were alone. She sat next to him and gave him a soft, sweet kiss on the cheek.

"How are you feeling?"

He smiled a little. "Much better."

His smile dropped as he moved on to darker thoughts. "Actually I've been thinking. Could you contact your friend in the Metropolis PD? If we question those bank robbers, we can learn about their supplier and then-"

Lois looked away uncomfortable. "What?" he asked.

"I already did."

"Why do I get the feeling you don't have good news?"

She winced. "Because I don't. The perps were taken away, but they never arrived. Either they're dead or they escaped."

Clark sighed and leaned back in the seat. "There goes our lead then."

Lois seemed preoccupied by something when she said, "I made some breakfast. Let's go inside."

As though in response to the prospect of food Clark's stomach growled and he nodded enthusiastically. He felt like he hadn't eaten in a week. It wasn't anything special: toast, orange juice, eggs, and bacon, but to Clark it was a feast. Immediately he began removing plates from the cupboard and filling one for himself and Lois. Staring at her food, she seemed disinterested. When she looked up at him, there was a look of determination, though.

"Have you ever thought that Luthor might be behind this? I mean he did threaten you."

Clark shook his head. He hadn't considered it, but if so then he would look into it himself.

"That happened after the note."

"So? He could have sent that to rattle you before you two met."

"No one at the Daily Planet is connected to him," he said.

"Maybe it wasn't sent by someone at the Daily Planet. Maybe it's someone who can blend in. Literally." Clark looked at her confused and Lois raised her eyebrows significantly.

"A meta-human? You mean the woman."

She nodded. "You said that he was trying to rally meta-humans to him."

Again Clark shook his head. "We don't know if he's been successful."

"We could know," she said conspiratorial.

"What do you mean?"

Not looking at him, she said casually, "It's not like I'm inexperienced at retrieving information clandestinely."

Clark frowned. "Lois, no. Besides Luthor doesn't know that I work at the Daily Planet."

"But he knows I do and he knows I'm connected to you. The note was sent to me, remember?"

"All the more reason to stay away," Clark insisted strongly.

Lois sighed and looked away thoughtfully. "Well, we could look at the bottom then. I still have friends in low enough places-"

"I don't want you doing that, Lois," he cut her off firmly.

She cocked an eyebrow. "Are you going to set a curfew for me too?"

He sighed. "I just want you to be safe."

"And I want _you _to be safe."

"You may be right about Lex, but let me figure it out, okay? He's dangerous."

She looked at him incredulously. "I don't care about putting myself in danger."

"But I do!" he shouted. Regretting his outburst, he deflated a bit. "I just want to protect you."

"What about protecting you?!" she yelled holding nothing back.

"Not when it means you're in danger," he said despairingly.

She sighed exasperated. "That is absolute crap, Clark! Of course, I'm going to risk myself for you! I love you!"

There were tears forming in her eyes as she spoke so passionately. Taken aback by her declaration of love for him, for a moment he said nothing. A large part of him was thrilled and elated by her loving him, but another part of him was terrified by the prospect of what that love would inspire her to do.

"Lois," he moved toward her and caressed her face tenderly. "I love you too. That's why I can't imagine anything happening to you."

"I can't either," she said tearfully. "That's why I'm not going anywhere. That's why I need to do this. Even superheroes need help sometimes," she said with small smile, but Clark didn't return it.

"Clark, whatever comes out of this, we can handle it. Together," she said softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Gently, he took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm, just to feel her pulse there.

"Lois, promise me you won't go looking into Luthor."

She started to protest, but he cut her off gently.

"Promise."

"Clark," she whispered.

"Please," he pleaded with her.

She looked away for a moment, but then nodded. Relief washed over him as he hugged her.

"I love you."

He kissed her; her hair, her eyes, then her nose and finally her mouth. Clark felt Lois' hands in his hair and he deepened the kiss into something far less sweet.

"Clark-" she said when she could think. He was trailing kisses up her neck. "Clark, sweetie, you should be resting. You were shot yesterday."

"I'm healed now. And this brush with death has made me realize that I need to appreciate the people I have in my life." He smiled at her affectionately. "I don't know where I would be without you, Lois. I don't think I could handle what's coming."

"Clark," she said breathlessly.

The kissing escalated and Lois pushed him into the cupboard. There was a splintering noise, but they both ignored it. A meteor shower couldn't stop them. Clark felt his arm hit some plates or something off the counter causing them to crash and shatter on the floor. This was starting to get dangerous, so he lifted Lois and carried her over to the living room.

Before either of them knew it, their clothes littered the floor. Clark gently lain Lois on the couch. It was pure ecstasy. And it was exactly what he and Lois needed: privacy and quality time together. The unusual amount of stress for both was in much need of release. What better way to ameliorate such tension than by taking comfort in each other's bodies and company.

Clark kissed Lois deeply eliciting a moan from her. "You are so good at that."

"Thank you. I love doing it."

"Oh my God!" He heard a voice cry out and he jumped back in surprise and quickly grabbed the nearest cushion to retain some of his modesty. Although glad that it wasn't his mother, he didn't want it to be her either.

"Melissa!" he cried. "What are you doing?"

Her eyes were bugging out of her head. Obviously back from a run, she was wearing tight shorts and a tank top. Had Clark not been distracted by the knife in her right hand, he would have more clearly registered how toned and muscular her body was.

After her initial shock wore off she covered her face with her free hand. "What are _you _doing? Never mind, never mind! It just—why on the couch? Do they not have beds in Metropolis?"

Clark stammered. He felt something poke his leg. Puzzled he looked down to see Lois circling her eyes with her fingers and mouthing the word 'glasses'. His eyes grew wide. He hadn't realized his glasses were missing.

_Where are they?_

"Melissa, why are you carrying a knife?" Lois asked, giving Clark a chance to search. He frantically scanned the floor and through every piece of furniture, but he couldn't find them.

Still blind by her hand, Melissa was clearly a little discombobulated and she stumbled over her words as she explained.

"Well, I saw the plates on the floor and the door was unlocked so I thought someone had jimmied their way into the house."

"Why would a thief break some plates?" Lois asked while also looking for his glasses between the couch cushions. Clark shook his head at her; he had already searched there.

"I don't know Lois!" Melissa lifted up the knife hand dramatically causing Lois to jump.

"Put down the knife!" they shouted together.

Melissa uncovered her eyes and carefully set the knife on the table. Her eyes in full view of Clark she spun around.

"Sorry!" she said her voice squeaking with embarrassment. "I thought someone fell! Honestly, what was I supposed to think? There's no car in the drive way, so how was I supposed to know that it was you guys?"

Clark made a placating gesture with one hand as he precariously held a cushion to himself with the other while simultaneously searching for his glasses. "Okay, okay. Well obviously no one tried to rob the house and-"

"Wait. That means that _you _did _that_?" she asked pointing to the kitchen.

Clark said nothing.

"Why?! Do you know how unsanitary that is?" she asked aghast.

"Melissa, we didn't have sex in the kitchen; it was just-"

"I don't need to know the specifics, Lois!" she said urgently.

"Okay. We're all adults here. We can handle this like adults," Clark said calmly.

An awkward moment hung in the air like a funk.

Melissa just shook her head as if to erase the last few minutes. "I don't know. I just—_why_? I mean-you know what? I'm not gonna ask questions. Because if I ask questions, I'll get answers and answers come with details. And no matter how much I like you guys, I don't wanna be that close."

"That's fine," Clark said.

"Right? Also I think that any interactions between us from now on should have dress requirements. And we shall never speak of this again."

"Sounds good," Lois said.

"Okay, so I'm going to go upstairs," she said awkwardly trying to walk toward the stairs while keeping her back turned to them, "and get dressed."

"We'll do the same," Clark said and they both started looking for their clothes, while Melissa grabbed a duffel bag from the corner and practically ran toward the stairs with her back to them accomplishing a kind of crab walk.

Thankfully Clark had found his underwear when he heard Melissa say, "Clark."

He looked up to find her with her back to him holding his glasses up. A lump formed in his throat.

"You'll need your glasses."

He took them from her gently. Though he couldn't see her face, he wondered if she had seen his. After he murmured 'thank you', she hurried up the stairs. Eventually they had replaced their clothes, but Lois decided to take a shower, so Clark was left in the living room alone and he assessed the damage. It was a bit of a disaster, mostly contained in the kitchen. In the throes of passion they had ignored the damage they were doing which resulted in more than a few shattered remnants of his mother's china. When Melissa walked into the kitchen to find a fully clothed Clark she gave an embarrassed smile, but then began cleaning the disaster they had left in the room. He felt guilty about that. He felt guilty about her finding them together. And their promise to never speak of what transpired aside, Clark wanted to make sure that everything was alright and have her assurance that she wouldn't tell his mother.

"Melissa about what happened...," he began as smoothly as possible.

"Yeah, about what happened: what the hell happened?" she asked gesturing to the disaster surrounding her.

Clark shrugged.

"You guys made such a mess. I never took you to like it rough," she joked.

Clark stifled a groan. "So we broke a few plates," he said trying to sound nonchalant.

Melissa opened one of the cabinet doors to show a giant piece missing.

"Uh." Clark looked away embarrassed. "And-and that."

She chuckled. "Yeah, that. How did that happen again? It looks like a giant mistook the door for a cookie and took a bite. Shouldn't you be in the hospital right now?"

"Why me?" he said evasively. He didn't really want to explain how that happened.

"It's a little high for Lois," she deadpanned.

"Right. Well, they're, uh, old. So the door broke easily."

She quirked an eyebrow suspiciously. "I guess your hair cushioned the blow a little bit, but still."

She shook her head and Clark inwardly sighed. That had been a lame excuse, but she appeared mollified at least for the moment.

"And I can't believe you didn't hear me come in. It's a minefield in here."

"We were a little distracted," he said awkwardly.

"Coming from you, that's disconcerting," she quipped with a smirk.

Clark's face fell as the meaning of those words resonated within him. What an odd thing to say. The Clark Kent Melissa knew did not have particularly good hearing so why would it be disconcerting? Melissa's back was to him, so there was no way to gauge her reaction. Maybe what she had meant was that he was far too young to be experiencing hearing problems? Had she seen him without his glasses? Was he being a little paranoid? His instincts kicked in and jump started his suspicions, but Clark ignored them and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He was seeing enemies wherever he looked. Still there was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that although she wasn't a danger to him, she wasn't all she seemed. But he continued to ignore it and his initial guilt returned as he watched Melissa clean up the mess he and Lois had made.

"Melissa I'll do that-"

"Okay."

She dropped the hand broom and dust bin in front of him causing him to chuckle a little. The awkward moment had dissipated and the questionable comment before momentarily dropped.

"So I thought you were working outside," he said conversationally.

She smiled a little. "I was. Mrs. Kent put me in here."

"Why?" he asked. She grimaced and he grew a little worried. "Did something happen?"

"Well...a guy grabbed my behind. Stuff happened and he...broke his nose," she said feigning nonchalance as she helped herself to a cookie from the cookie jar.

"What stuff happened?"

"He fell." She shrugged.

Clark raised his eyebrow at her disbelieving. "On my fist," she finished with a little smirk.

"Melissa!"

"What?! Only I am allowed to touch my butt without permission...,"she paused thoughtfully, "and one other person."

Clark was laughing though. Although he regretted the situation she had been in, he was impressed that she handled it so well. "It's not that. I just never really took you for one to punch people."

"We all have our secrets Clark," she said giving him an unreadable look which trailed up his body. Again the comment was innocent enough, but it resonated with him and moved him. Her eyes were more suspicious and calculating. Perhaps it was because she had seen him naked. Clark Kent's clothes effectively hid his rather brawny physique and today she had a full view. Also he hadn't been wearing his glasses. For only a second she had seen him, but in that moment, Clark Kent probably looked more like Superman than he would ever want. Although he was sure she had her theories, he wouldn't provide any more evidence to solidify them.

"I'm surprised my Mom didn't fire him," he said like nothing had changed.

She made a noncommittal sound. "She wanted to. I asked her not to."

He made a confused face.

"Assholes have bills to pay too. Specifically medical bills for that one."

Clark laughed a little, but was also impressed by her compassion. Melissa must have read his thoughts because she looked away a little shyly and blushed.

"So what _are_ you guys doing here?" she asked after the slight awkward moment had passed.

Clark paused for a moment trying to think of the right words.

"Lois and I need a break."

Technically, it wasn't a lie.

Melissa nodded understandingly. "Right. I'm sure after the attack on Superman everyone is a little shaken up. I know that she and Superman are friends."

In the age of the internet and instant news coverage he was unsurprised that she already knew what had happened to Superman. However, the speed of information often didn't allow him much time to practice his responses as a bystander instead of a participant. But this time the story also involved Lois. So again he spoke carefully. When it came to discussions of Lois and Superman, he was always extra cautious.

"She's okay," he said slowly. He wasn't sure if that was a lie.

"Do you know what hurt him?"

"No," he said quickly. An easier, but simultaneously perplexing question. He didn't know what had hurt him, but he very much wanted to.

He wished she would stop asking questions. The morning had not gone well between them and frankly this conversation wasn't helping.

"Melissa, considering what happened today, why don't you go home? I'll clean up the mess."

She looked surprised. "Mrs. Kent didn't tell you? She's letting me stay here."

"Oh."

"After those guys were bothering me, she said she wasn't comfortable with me having my own place, so she offered me a space here."

For once in his life he was a little annoyed by his mother's kindness. It was difficult enough to keep a secret with other workers on the farm, but with someone else living there it would be next to impossible to keep.

"Then why don't you relax on the cou—chair and I'll clean up in here?"

She wasn't listening though. She was staring out the window and absent-mindedly played with the towel on the rack.

"Melissa?" he asked kindly.

When she turned to face him, her eyes were a little watery. "It's kinda scary. I mean I thought Superman was invincible."

"He's not invincible," he said somberly.

"I can't imagine how his family feels about all of this."

Worried his emotions would show, Clark looked away and didn't speak.

"And now the bad guys know his weakness," she said obviously discouraged. He placed a hand on her shoulder and was ashamed for being annoyed with her questions; he hadn't realized the impact that Superman had on her.

"Go relax. I'll handle this," he said gently. She smiled gratefully before she walked away.

She was right though. Now the bad guys knew his weakness. He rubbed his eyes again. He didn't even get headaches. But he could feel one coming on as his problems were stacking up faster than he could knock them down.

"Clark? Are you okay?" Melissa asked from behind him.

"Yeah. Headache." He rubbed the back of his head not completely feigning pain. "I think I'm starting to feel that cupboard."

She smiled sympathetically. "Here, I'll get you some aspirin."

He stated his thanks, but internally lamented that aspirin wouldn't solve his headache or his other problems. If it were only that simple.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 **

Lois couldn't sleep. The bed was cold and empty without Clark. She had tried to convince him to stay, he was barely healed after all, but he was undaunted. After the incident with the green bullet, people's faith in him had shaken and criminals were emboldened by the prospect of a weakness of their seemingly invincible opponent. She understood. She was proud of him. He was facing his fears and strengthening the hope that had been hurt along with him. She was also mad at him. Their fight was over, but a small ember from that fire burned in her heart. He had to know how much seeing him hurt had scared her. For heaven's sake, he had died! Didn't he understand how much she wanted to protect him too? How much he deserved that protection? A part of her felt guilty for her decision. However she wasn't going to sit by idly while someone she loved was in danger. It was unnatural for a Lane to not protect those they care about. But the guilt still ate at her. And the thought that other thugs were carrying those magic bullets was relentlessly swirling through her mind, hence the lack of sleep. Hence the pack of cigarettes in her hand.

For 5 years she had gone without a cigarette, but tonight she had caved and bought some at a drugstore down the street. Mad at herself at how badly she desired to take a nice, long drag on one of them she just stared at them in her hands. Just one of them. Just enough to calm her dancing nerves a little to let her sleep. She opened the box, pulled one out, brought it to her lips, and lit it. The image of Clark coming home and smelling nicotine and tar on her stopped her from inhaling. She imagined the disappointment in his eyes, when he was so happy to hear she had quit so long ago. Then they would fight. She would rail into him about how he left her knowing that she would be worried and then he would defend himself saying that he had a job to do and he didn't mean to make her worry. And then she would confess how every now and then she wanted to be selfish just for once. And he would apologize. He was always the first to apologize. He would look so downtrodden and all of that loneliness he had ever felt would come rushing back. He would blame himself for her grief.

She snubbed the cigarette on the railing and threw the pack down into the alley.

"Lois."

She turned around to see Clark looking confused and worried.

"What are you doing up?"

She hesitated. He would know if she was lying, but she couldn't tell the truth either. "I couldn't sleep."

"Because of me."

His face was so bare and vulnerable, she couldn't control herself anymore. As her emotions overwhelmed her, she could feel the hot tears welling up in her eyes.

"Clark, I'm scared," she gasped.

He wrapped his arms around her. She let the heat from his body and the rhythm of his heart soothe her. She inhaled his scent deeply.

_He's alive. He's here. _She repeated this mantra over and over in her head as she shivered from her sobbing. She felt him kiss her hair and she squeezed just a little tighter.

"I am too."

At some point they had fallen asleep on their couch. Much to Clark's surprise he was still in his suit and prayed to God, no one had seen them on the balcony. It wasn't excactly a scenic view. One of the reasons they had purchased the place was that their balcony faced a brick wall, but Clark was a little more cautious as of late.

He reached for Lois' cellphone to check the time. It read 7:30. They only had an hour and a half before they had to be to work. Seeing her so relaxed and peaceful, he hated to wake her. After last night he debated calling in for her, but he knew that she would kill him if he did that. If she had demanded that she return to work after the invasion, whether or not the building stood, she would be livid if he suggested she stay home due to emotionally induced insomnia. Gently he tried to rouse her from her sleep.

"Lois," he whispered, "we have to get ready for work."

She mumbled something incoherent about maple donuts and decided to leave her alone for the moment. Besides, he needed to shower and change. Deciding to enjoy his shower, he took a half hour to unwind. Slowly he peeled off his suit and let the warm water relax his muscles. Criminals were far more bold than he was used to. Also he was nervous. As Superman, he rarely showed anything other than pure confidence, but last night and every night since the attack he was more hesitant. Any gun could hold another green bullet. Whatever the stuff was, if they could make bullets they could make any commonplace weapon that a criminal could use. He took a deep breath. He couldn't allow his fear to control him. He wouldn't allow what happened to dampen the faith that he had so recently regained. More importantly, he had to prove Zod wrong.

And he had to be strong. For Lois. For himself. For the world. So when he came back to the living room, he kept his face neutral. Although he didn't need to, as Lois wasn't paying any attention to him at all. She was looking intensely at something on the computer screen. Curious he looked over her shoulder. On a blaringly pink website labeled 'Cat's Claws' was an article entitled 'I'm Glad Superman Got Shot' by Catherine Grant.

"What is this?"

Lois nearly jumped out of her skin and slammed her laptop shut. "I didn't hear you come in!"

"Lois, what were you reading?"

She gave him a pained look. "Clark, I don't think you want to read that."

"Lois."

Reluctantly, she opened her laptop to show him. He read quickly. If he said he wasn't hurt by her callousness he would be lying, but it would also be dishonest to say he was surprised. After a while, he had become inoculated to Catherine's hero-hating; now it was just exhausting. They had greater worries; none of which were related to Catherine Grant. Though he could tell Lois was distressed, so he tried to remain passive about the situation.

"That was...interesting. I didn't know Catherine had a blog."

Lois raised her eyebrows in surprise."Well she does. And she's using it to skewer Superman."

"I'm not surprised by _that_. I didn't think we were allowed to have blogs."

"Seriously, Clark?" Lois was obviously annoyed. "That's your take away from this?"

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he calmly spoke to her. "Lois, Catherine doesn't like Superman. There are lots of people with blogs and some of them don't like Superman. I'm sure there are more articles like this."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"Of course it does. Why do you think I deleted Superman's Facebook page? The fact that my near death experience has energized Catherine's efforts to spread her hate for me more than bothers me. It always has, but I don't know if there's anything I can do about it. And frankly, we have bigger problems."

"You're not even going to defend yourself?" Lois asked shocked.

"If I spent all my time responding to vitriol, I wouldn't have time to save people. Instead I'm trying to make it so my actions speak for me. You told me before that people believe in me. People need more than just words."

Lois ground her teeth a little. "What about the Meta-Human Registration Act? You're not the only thing she's written about."

"And it will be counteracted by the article we wrote. You know that it lost support after our article's release."

"Clark," she said closing her eyes in what seemed to be an attempt to hold onto her patience.

"Lois. I can't allow other people to define me. I can't allow other people to intimidate me from doing my job. No matter how loud or adamant...or dangerous they are." They held each other's gaze as what happened last night passed though his mind and he imagined Lois' too.

"Catherine is just making a lot of noise," he said.

"Exactly. And everyone is listening."

Lois stomped away. The rest of the morning was tense. Clark did his best to calm Lois, but Lois Lane was like a pit bull on a pant leg. When she was on a rampage, she would not be mullified by Clark or anyone else. When they reached the bull pen, Lois already had a copy of Catherine's article in hand and he knew she was preparing for a confrontation. She made a bee-line for Catherine's desk and Clark cringed. He actually felt a little bad for Catherine.

"I can't believe you wrote this, Cat!" Lois shouted as she slammed a thin stack of papers on her colleague's desk. "How dare you write that the attack on Superman was a blessing in disguise!"

Catherine merely sat back cooly in her chair. "Why? Because I have a differing opinion about our caped 'friend'?"

"No! Because you accused Superman of being a possible terrorist and 'a menace to human security'. You practically celebrated the fact that Superman was attacked: 'a ray of hope shines with the new revelation that the Man of Steel may have a chink in his armor.'"

Catherine's eyebrow arched dangerously. "I stand by every word. He and his Kryptonian friends destroyed the downtown area and part of Smallville. Not only that, he also sent them through a black hole to God knows where and killed one of them. Who made him judge and jury? What's to stop him from doing that to one of us? We need to protect ourselves and whatever hurt Superman could end up helping _us_."

Lois' face hardened.

"Superman did what he had to to protect the world and he vowed never to take a life again. He is no threat to us; we don't need insurance against him."

"And you take him on his word?" she asked condescendingly.

Lois stood firm. "Of course," she responded resolutely. Catherine merely smiled wryly.

"I'm not surprised at you Lois. Always jumping to our resident alien's defense."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Catherine smirked.

The implication was clear. For a while most people (and newspapers) speculated that Lois and Superman had a love affair. With Lois being the only reporter who was able to interview him, rumors began to spread. As Superman, Clark had insisted that the reasoning behind her exclusivity was that she had been instrumental in defeating Zod and his fellow insurgents. He trusted her and he considered the Daily Planet a respected and honest news source. After that didn't completely stem the accusations of bias, he began giving quotes occassionally to other news sources. And to be extra careful, he always treated Lois professionally while donning the cape. It worked for the most part. Although almost all reputable sources dropped the story, there was still a lot of gossip flying around the blogosphere and in the tabloids. People believe what they wish to believe, but his statement wasn't a lie. He _did_ trust Lois and the Daily Planet. And Lois wasn't with _Superman_.

She was with him.

"I have only ever been professional," Lois said with a dangerous calm.

Catherine scoffed and Clark furrowed his brow in anger. Clark could handle hearing insults lobbed at his alter ego, but he would never tolerate someone attacking Lois.

"So swapping saliva with him is considered professional?" Catherine looked snidely at Lois. All of the office was openly listening now.

"Alright that's enough," Clark snapped as he walked toward the two ladies. Catherine looked up in surprise and Clark realized he had sounded a little too authoritative. He slumped a little lower than normal. "I mean, we really shouldn't be doing this here."

Cat looked almost pityingly at Clark. "You should be thanking me, Clark! Everybody knows that Lois and Superfreak have had a fling since he came out of the super closet and you're just a consolation prize."

Cat turned to Lois again with a haughty gaze, but to everyone's surprise Lois looked almost amused.

"Cat got your tongue, Lois?"

She shrugged. "Everyone does unexpected things if they think the world is ending," Lois replied smoothly.

"Twice?" Catherine asked disbelieving.

Lois waved her off with a wistful smile. "What can I say? He was a good kisser."

Catherine just rolled her eyes and charged on.

"Enough to make you a little biased."

Clark had had just about enough of Catherine accusing Lois of unprofessionalism and was about to put an end to this argument secret identity be damned until out of nowhere, Kassandra appeared by Lois' side right in front of him.

_Where did she come from?_ Clark looked around. No one else seemed to notice.

"Come on Cat. I know how much you can't stand Superman, but even you have to admit that if you had been in those muscly arms you would have felt a little weak-kneed." The room rippled with laughter.

All Catherine did was glare. "My name is Catherine."

Kassandra didn't skip a beat. "Well I have a friend named Katherine and I don't want that association in my mind."

Catherine scoffed. "I shouldn't have expected anything different from you either. Ever since you got here, you've cozied up to Lois and Clark. The number one and two advocates for the blue-suited menace. And the rest of you," she gestured out to the crowd of people listening, "all seem to agree. Maybe I should go where my dissenting opinion is welcomed."

"It's not that you dissent. You're just disrespectful and hateful. To be honest, we wouldn't miss you," Lois stated coolly.

"Then I'll leave you brainwashed fools to your hero worship." Catherine began to stock off, when Kassandra stepped forward again.

"I still don't understand you. Superman does a service for this nation, this world; he deserves a little respect and a little faith."

Catherine glared. "Hitler did a lot of good for the German people. So much that they trusted him blindly. Look at what happened then."

"You're really comparing a man who commited mass genocide to one who prevented it?" Kassandra asked incredulously.

"I stand by what I said before. If he really wanted us to trust him, he would tell us the whole truth. All I want is his name."

"He has a right to privacy," Kassandra countered.

"No. Humans have the right to privacy."

Again Kassandra parried the blow, "He was given honorary citizenship of the United States. He has rights."

"Then the U.S. made a terrible mistake. Why give rights to someone who is a probable threat to us all?"

"He who would sacrifice freedom for security deserves neither."

Catherine's nostrils flared. "Again in regards to humans."

"It applies here too," she replied smoothly. Kassandra sighed deeply before looking at Catherine a little sadly. "I guess I just don't understand why you hate him so much."

A queer, almost pitying look appeared on Catherine's face. "I don't hate _just_ Superman. I hate all of the vigilantes. Batman, the Flash, Green Arrow. All of the freaks masquarading as heroes deceiving the rest of you mental patients into believing that they're protecting you. People so deformed that they won't come out into the public eye. People celebrating their abnormalities, while portraying the ideal that they are our champions for truth, justice, and the American way. When that couldn't be more false. You know who the real heroes are? Our men and women in the armed forces. Police officers and firefighters and doctors. Those people exemplify our values. Those people don't hide behind masks. We know who they are and they perform a valuable service within the law."

Clark grimaced. He had to admit that she had a point. Hiding his secret identity to the world did make it harder for them to trust him. He had to literally save the world in order to earn their trust in the first place. And in order for it to be sustained he had to constantly remind them through his acts and his words that he was legitimate in his want to help. The fact that he was more powerful than most of the weapons on Earth and that few knew his weakness wasn't exactly conducive to garnering faith from humanity. The task of trust building was a heavy one. The world was leaning back, hoping that he would catch them. Although Clark would never let them fall, he could understand the hesitancy of some members of humanity.

"All of them are heroes. And those 'vigilantes' as you call them, perform valuable services as well. They only wear masks to protect their identities and their loved ones from their enemies."

"They wear masks so the law can't prosecute them. You're a lawyer; shouldn't that bother you?" she sneered.

Kassandra was silent. Perhaps sensing a weakness, Catherine continued with her tirade undaunted.

"I've been listening to Gilbert Godfrey. He is so right. He's been talking about the expanding vigilante/meta-human problem and why they're the way they are."

The captive audience looked at her expectantly.

"They're sick!" she said dramatically. "Godfrey says they look human and act human, but they have a genetic disease. They need to be helped. Those mutants out there should be insulted by those vigilantes. Instead of accepting their disease and seeking treatment, they are celebrating their genetic anomalies. And those vigilantes who don't have powers obviously have mental issues that need sorting out."

Kassandra's eyes darkened. Clark felt a flash of anger. He looked to Lois, who seemed just as aghast. They had never met any meta-human that they knew of, but the idea that abilities could be the symptoms of a disease raised his hackles. Chalk it up to a lifetime of self-hatred and fear that made him fill with fury whenever someone suggested that being different was something to be cured. The encircled staff were sharing awkward glances with each other, some looking confused, others uncomfortable, others angry. Although Clark noticed a few of them that were nodding slightly, he took comfort from the general distaste for Catherine's statement.

"That's why I hate Superman. That's why I support Francis, Clay, Luthor and their Meta-Human Registration Act. Superman is a rallying point for all of them. Without him, those people would be far more willing to be normal. And if we know who these people are, we can help them. We can make things right again."

Kassandra's fists were clenched at her sides. "You're so full of it!" All sense of poise was gone now. "You just said that you hated them. You don't want to help them!"

Catherine shook her head. "I hate the vigilantes. Not meta-humans."

"Well regardless, who says that they need help? A genetic disease? Really? Since when is Gilbert Godfrey a doctor? You're just trying to cover for your own xenophobia. Welcome to the 21rst Century Cat! Prejudice is no longer kosher," Kassandra spoke loudly.

"Prejudice? I call it good judgment. These people should be normal and they should want to be normal. They are a danger to themselves and the public. You know some of them actually want to kill off humanity?"

"That's-"

"Don't say that isn't true!" Catherine cut her off fiercely. "You know it is. They think they're better than us."

"No, they don't. Not all of them," Kassandra amended showing some discomfort. "Some of them want to help. Some of them are just trying to live their lives without being harrassed or followed by the government or just in general hated. All they want is love and acceptance like any other human being."

"So this is all about their feelings?" she asked mockingly.

"No," Kassandra said quietly. Catherine was staring at Kassandra with a strange look on her face.

"In a few weeks Lex Luthor will be a senator and the Meta-Human Registration Act will be that much closer to becoming law. Their feelings won't matter soon."

Tension hung in the air between the two women. Everyone was still as stone until finally Clark decided to break the silence.

"I think we should get back to work," Clark interjected gently.

He placed himself between them both, but it was an unnecessary action. Catherine was too determined to say or do anything other than stare at Kassandra's back as she walked out of the bullpen.

Clark caught up with her before she was completely gone and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey," he said kindly.

With soulful eyes she stared at him. They shimmered and reflected the light heightening the blue flecks in her gray eyes.

"I'm fine, Clark," she said quietly before she relinquished his grasp and left quickly from the room.

Something was definitely off with Kassandra and he thought then that he knew what it was.

**A/N: "He who would sacrifice freedom for security deserves neither" is paraphrased from a Benjamin Franklin quote: "Those who would give up Essential Liberty, to purchase a little Temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety."**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Clark was late for work. California had had massive floods and he had been there most of the night and early morning helping. He was tired and probably looked disheveled because he didn't really look in a mirror when he got dressed for work. Clark sighed. All he wanted to do was sit at his desk for a moment, as he literally had not sat for about 12 hours. Although he wasn't on his feet for most of it, flying was exhausting after a while too. He sighed again and leaned on the far wall of the elevator.

It had been three weeks since the attack on him with the strange bullet and he was no closer in discovering what it actually was that harmed him. Since the bullet was taken from them there was no way to analyze it, the missing criminals had turned up on the banks of the river, and all of the evidence from the robbery had mysteriously disappeared from police storage. A couple of times he had entertained the thought of asking Batman for help, but he doubted the Caped Crusader would aid. Looking into _what _the substance was, was a dead-end. At least the _who _ involved was a slightly more encouraging investigation.

Begrudgingly he knew Lois was probably right about the attack. Most likely Luthor was behind everything surrounding this perplexing weapon. If there was anyone with the power to erase so many incriminating marks, it was Lex Luthor. But he wasn't so sure about the message he had received.

One good thing about the attack was that it had sparked something about the note.

_She teleported us here._

Teleportation was a perfect explanation for the note's unusual delivery. And suddenly, they knew of someone who could have delivered it. If she could teleport people, then she could definitely do the same with objects. There was no definitive way to identify her, though. After questioning all the witnesses at the bank, it was the same story. Everyone thought for a moment that they saw a woman in black standing next to Superman and then as quickly as she had arrived, they were gone without a trace. No newspapers were reporting about a new superhero in the city. There were no miraculous saves accompanied by her description. And Clark barely remembered seeing her after he had woken up. The only feature that he had seen and stood out strikingly was her eyes. She was invisible and untraceable. And so was the one who wrote the message. The only comforting aspect of the whole deal was that if his mysterious ally was connected to the message then whoever commissioned it was also a friend. Or at least not an enemy, which ruled out Lex, but reignited his earlier suspicions about Kassandra.

Compounded by the confrontation with Catherine two weeks earlier, Kassandra fell squarely under his radar again. Resolving to watch her and every move she made, he hoped to spot something about her that would connect her more conclusively. This task however was difficult as she had rarely been in the office. Clark had to take a different approach. Thinking that maybe there was something revealing, a gesture or movement that could indicate a display of power, Clark had watched the video again. A second before the note had appeared she had swiped her hair out of her face. But it was nothing definitive. All he had as proof was a casual gesture, his instincts, and vague memories of eyes that looked remarkably like hers. So nothing solid. If he was wrong and they confronted her then he would inadvertently out himself to the wrong person. He wondered what Lois would think. Frankly he wondered what Lois was thinking at all. They had been running parallel to each other the past three days.

She was deep into a story. Or at least he thought she was. The attack, the investigation into what that message was, and her day job were piling up on her he was sure, but usually it was piling up on the both of them. Regardless of the added stress, the lack of cross traffic between them was getting ridiculous. They lived together and somehow she was gone whenever he arrived. When she was there, she was nervous and twitchy, but also strangely elated. Clark couldn't pinpoint the cause of this behavior. This was different and seemingly unrelated to recent events as this strange behavior had only started three days ago. Or maybe it was related and he was just dense. Maybe he should fly them both to a tropical island as the weather was starting to get cold. He would still have to leave occasionally, but she could relax on the beach. He resolved that it was a good idea and he planned on sharing it with her if she was there. When he saw her strawberry blonde hair, his face cracked into a relieved smile. Today at least Lois was at the Daily Planet. Physically anyway.

It appeared Lombard was trying to talk to her and she wasn't paying attention. It wasn't a very unusual response; most people ignored him when he was talking trash or hitting on members of the staff. And judging from his cocky smile he was doing just that. But she wasn't being purposefully distant. She seemed very enthralled with whatever she was reading on her computer which was turned away from Lombard. So absorbed was she, that she jumped when Clark kissed her temple. They usually remained professional at the office, but he hadn't gotten more than a hello-goodbye out of her recently and he wanted to touch her. If Lombard was reminded that they were a couple in the process, all the better for it.

He looked at her computer screen. At some point between being surprised by his entrance and turning to him, she had exited out of whatever she had been reading. A little hurt that she was keeping secrets, and confused, he said "Lois, what-"

"I'm fine, Clark," she answered quickly. "Um, can I talk to you in private?"

"Oh Clark! Man, you're in trouble now!" Lombard chortled.

Clark ignored him. He was too tired to suffer Lombard's antics.

"Lombard, I have to speak to my partner," she said dismissively.

He stepped back with his hands up, but with a gigantic smile on his face. "Don't mind me. I wouldn't want to get in the middle of any of your spats."

He turned; his laughter could be heard trailing down the bull pen.

"What is it?" Clark asked, mildly concerned.

Lois just shook her head and gestured to Clark to enter one of the empty conference rooms. He followed swiftly after her. Dumbly, he scanned his brain for any wrong or grievance he had committed and discovered nothing. He could be unaware. It had happened before. Or something else must be up. She seemed more urgently anxious than angry at him.

Once she had closed the door behind them, she turned to face him.

"I have a message from General Swanwick."

Clark was a little taken aback. "What?"

"He wants to speak with you," she looked around surreptitiously and whispered, "Superman."

Clark grew a little tense. "What about?"

"He wouldn't tell me any details, but he said to meet him where you almost killed him." Her lips quirked at the edges.

Clark smiled a bit too. He could still remember her face when he told Lois about the time he downed a drone a few feet from General Swanwick's vehicle. Although she had scolded him for his recklessness, her anger had been barely genuine.

"Anyway, he seemed pretty serious about it, so you should talk to him."

"Right."

He doubted there was much the General wasn't serious about, especially when it involved him. They were barely allies; they were definitely not friends.

"Did he give a specific time?"

* * *

><p>Perhaps there was a rule. No matter if it was a magic spell or a secret rendezvous of great importance, the time of meeting always seemed to be midnight.<p>

It was a little strange. The last time Superman and General Swanwick talked it was after he had almost crushed him with a surveillance drone. Although Clark's aim was superb, the General was miffed and the succeeding conversation wasn't exactly friendly. However, he hoped this interaction would be more congenial.

His Hummer's roar preceded the vehicle long before it arrived. It gave him time to prepare himself for whatever the General may want to discuss. There was a tenuous trust between him and General Swanwick. He didn't want to damage it, but he also didn't want to give anything away, not like last time when in a spurt of comfort he had revealed he had grown up in Kansas. Although honestly after what happened to Smallville if no one even thought there was a connection, he would be worried about the government's competency.

As he heard the Hummer drawing near, he turned to face it and respectfully nodded as the man stepped out of the vehicle. He looked barely changed since last they met. Still stern and strong, he commanded everywhere he walked. Except this time instead of facing Clark with anger and suspicion, there was a sense of coöperation, like two soldiers meeting to discuss important business.

General Swanwick nodded a greeting before he spoke. "I see you've been busy for the past 7 months."

"I do what I can."

General Swanwick raised his eyebrows knowingly. "Then you won't mind if I ask you to do a favor."

Clark raised a hand. "First I want to ask _you_ something. Why did you involve Lois in this?"

"I know of no other way of contacting you. It's not like we have a Superman signal," General Swanwick said in what Clark assumed was an attempt at being facetious.

Clark grimaced. For the rest of the world, Superman only had ever spoken to a select few people, some of whom had perished during Zod's incursion. General Swanwick and Lois Lane were the best lines of communication. It irked Clark that she was in the middle of this and probably would be at least until he could figure a way of communicating with the people and the government safely and confidentially.

"I could call you if I knew your name."

"Kal or Superman," he said with a small amount of facetiousness himself.

He sighed seemingly irritated. "You know what I mean."

"I'm sorry, General. But it's better that as few people as possible know my true identity."

"I'm not trustworthy?"

"That's not what I meant," he said earnestly.

General Swanwick did not look pleased, but he said nothing for which Clark was grateful. There was a reason he kept his identity secret. That information could put everyone he loved and everyone associated with him in danger. It was true that he didn't completely trust the government; the last thing he wanted was to become the government's dog. But he respected General Swanwick and tenuous their trust for each other may be, he believed that the General would be a great ally in the future. This was not the time to rehash the old argument, however. He was there for a reason.

"Why am I here, General?"

The only acknowledgment of the abrupt change in subject was a slight eyebrow raise from General Swanwick, but he spoke nothing about how he felt. Instead he pulled out a tablet, flicked it on to show Clark satellite imagery. There were several of them with different dates. Some of which were fairly recent.

"What am I looking at, General?"

"A few months ago, NASA detected foreign objects falling to Earth. Thankfully, they all have fallen harmlessly into uninhabited areas. One in the Indian Ocean, another in the Sahara desert. There was a series that happened a couple of days ago in the Utah Canyon lands. Compared to the others this was significantly smaller," he explained.

"Why do you need me then?"

Usually he was asked for help in preventing natural disasters and cleaning up any resulting damage he couldn't circumvent. If the meteor showers had taken place somewhere uninhabited, he saw no reason to be involved.

General Swanwick looked him straight in the eyes. "We want you to inspect the objects."

Clark raised his eyebrows in question.

"Look it's no secret that you're made of sterner stuff than any human and frankly I think someone like you is better equipped to handle things of this nature."

_You mean as an alien I'm better suited to handle stuff from outer space._

"Who else is involved in the clean up efforts?" Clark asked.

"Officially the United States and Egyptian governments. We're not worried about the ocean."

Clark arched an eyebrow. "And unofficially?"

The General frowned and shifted a little, seemingly annoyed at his shrewdness. "After the meteor shower in the Sahara desert, the Egyptian government reportedly went to clean up the site and someone had beaten them to it. We don't know who or why."

"Why was I not informed about the first meteor shower?" Clark asked with an angry edge to his voice.

General Swanwick frowned a little deeper.

"According to these time stamps, it happened several months ago, General."

His eyes told him everything. The United States government was still wary of him. It must have taken the General a while to convince them to ask Superman for help. Public pressure and consistent saves changed the tune of most politicians, but communication and trust between him and the government was still left wanting. As disheartening the news of that fact was, it made Clark even more hopeful considering General Swanwick had vouched for him. Great ally indeed.

Clark nodded his understanding. "Is there an investigation going on?"

"There was. There's not a trace of whoever was there and no one near the crash site talked."

"You think they were paid for their silence."

"Or threatened," he said gravely.

Clark nodded. "I'll look into it," Clark said determinedly.

They briefly shook hands and Clark departed quickly, wondering what value meteorites could be to someone to prompt them to _persuade_ people into silence. Most likely it was something unsavory or at least illegal. Regardless of the reason, he would investigate this matter as soon as possible.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Some changes.**

**Chapter 16 **

That weekend Clark decided to follow up on his request from General Swanwick. Finding the crash site was the easy part. When Clark had first learned to fly, he realized the best way to know where he was at any given time was to learn about coördinates. Thankfully he was a quick study with an eidetic memory as he learned them all and memorized the globe.

He flew at his top speed. There was a reason to rush; the last site had been combed and whoever had been there removed all the store of meteor rock before the authorities had arrived. It was possible that this mysterious group would attempt the same in the Utah Canyon-lands. As he drew closer, he slowed and surveyed the scene.

The Utah Canyon-lands was incredible. Miles of rust colored layered earth shaped by millions of years of weathering and erosion carved the landscape into countless canyons, mesas, and buttes. The clear blue sky juxtaposed against the red land was breathtaking. Although he felt grateful that the meteors had fallen well away from any city or town, it was too bad that they had marred such a beautiful and priceless region.

Hundreds of feet above the ground he could see them and the damage they had wrought. Scattered along the landscape were massive holes etched by cracked and burned earth. The meteor rocks themselves were darker, black as tar, than any of the other stones surrounding them and stood out starkly against the red dirt of the canyon-lands. Some were jagged and angular, while others were a more spherical shape; everything about them seemed alien in the back drop of the natural setting.

Descending slowly, he decided to be cautious and aimed for a spot a hundred yards or so away from the crash site. A recent lesson taught him he was vulnerable to __something__ most likely not from Earth. He didn't wish to experience that again. Using his x-ray vision, he tried to inspect the closest one, which happened to be the biggest meteor rock, inside and out. But he found he was unable to see through its shell. Whatever this rock was made of was immune to those abilities. He looked along the spectrum and still saw nothing worthy of note. He couldn't see any more than a human could.

Clark grimaced. If he were to see inside, he would have to break inside. The problem was that from his current distance, he knew he wouldn't be able to aim properly and he could completely destroy the object. There was no way of knowing its durability. He would have to move closer.

Slowly he walked towards it. Taking stock of his body, he knew that his strength, flight, and other abilities were at the normal level. Being unaffected by the presence of the meteor rocks did nothing to sway his vigilance as it remained in place and increased with every step. One could not be too careful. He stopped short of the object at about 10 feet. Wary of it, he took a deep breath before he focused his heat vision to laser precision and cut the meteor in half.

The moment it broke apart was one of the most agonizing moments of his life.

An immense wave of energy ripped through him and brought him to his knees, gasping for air. Like thousands of tiny burning glass shards embedded into his skin, muscles, and organs and set his whole body ablaze from the inside out. The only thought in his mind was to get as far away as possible. And quickly.

Hunched over, legs not cooperating, he knew he couldn't fly; he hobbled away from the site. Blinded by the pain, he forced his legs to move, step by aching step. Relentlessly, he kept walking, but he was moving so slowly and it hurt so much, like he was swimming through polluted viscous water. Every moment in it was poison to his body, but still with every step the pain from his body ebbed. He could feel the Sun filter through the poison and he could walk just a little bit more easily until finally he was far enough away that he felt that he could fly. With a cry he burst from the ground and flew as high as possible to get as far as possible away.

He hovered there for a while, just breathing deeply and soaking in the golden rays of the sun.

__ What the hell was that? __

He had definitely felt that before. Scanning the area of the site again, he zoomed in on the rock he had split open. Inside the dark shell was a formation of a crystalline mineral. It was green; the exact shade of green he remembered from the bank robbery. If that bullet and these rocks were of the same substance, then whoever collected all the meteor samples from the other site seemed to have a sinister plot against him. And most likely they were supplying weaponized versions to criminals. For what purpose, he wasn't sure. To kill him? Clark wouldn't be surprised. There was probably a market for selling the only thing that could kill Superman.

In order to answer that question Clark would have to know the person in charge. But he couldn't stay floating there. That blast of radiation took a lot out of him. Although he was able to recharge considerably from the Sun, he needed to rest his body and create as much distance between himself and these rocks as possible.

He knew he couldn't fly far, so he headed to the closest safe place possible: Smallville, Kansas. At what was for him a slow pace, Clark flew home.

* * *

><p>With Melissa living in the house, Clark had to be cautious. He hovered high in the atmosphere and scanned the house for anyone inside. Through his x-ray vision he saw the bones of the house and interior. His dog was asleep inside, but no human person was anywhere to be seen. He scanned the surrounding area as well. There were no workers nor anyone for miles around the house. Confident that it was safe to descend, he slowly approached the ground.<p>

After a soft landing, he assessed his body. All of his abilities were present, but at a lower capacity than normal. Thankfully, he could feel them all regenerating. A little bit of rest and he would be fine. After a leisurely stroll through the house where he confiscated some food, he headed to his room for a change of clothes and a nap. He and his mother had agreed a while ago to keep some clothes here for him in case of emergencies. And she repeatedly reminded him that his bed was always there for him if he needed it.

In the midst of putting his shirt on he heard a car pull into the drive, and his name. Startled, Clark listened carefully to pinpoint where it was coming from and who was speaking. Then used his vision to confirm. It was coming from the drive way. And it was Melissa. She was talking to someone on her cellphone.

As long as he remained quiet she would never know he was there. His mother had told him that Melissa had never been allowed in either his or her bedroom, which Melissa respected. He appreciated that, but he resolved to still listen to be sure of her presence in the house. Besides she was talking about him; Clark rarely took that as a good sign.

He closed his eyes and focused on her voice, which increased in volume until it was like she was standing there next to him. She was angry and practically shouting into the phone.

"...don't care that you think it's too soon. I've done everything you've asked. Don't we have enough on him?"

Clark's heart started beating faster. _What? _

A man's tenor voice sounded through the other end. "This is too important to end it prematurely."

"I realize that your plans are important. But even you said that you want him. Why not let him in on the whole deal?"

"It's not the right time," the man insisted.

He heard her growl with frustration. "It's been 3 months. When is the right time? When you know the kind of boxers he wears?"

Clark could practically feel the irritation emanating from the man. "What I am planning is very delicate and requires a certain amount of caution. Especially in regards to him. This is not a simple task."

"This really should be a lot simpler. You two are very similar: you both spend your time fighting for justice, you both have high morals...you both have lost so much."

There was a moment of hesitation on the other end of the line. "That's just it: I need to know for sure that he fights for true justice; that he won't become a barbaric tyrant."

The words stung him, but ignored his feelings and continued to listen.

"And what I've told you hasn't convinced you of that? He _is_ justice. He _is_ hope. There is something so genuinely good and strong about him. Not just of his body, but also of his heart."

She spoke with a passion and verve that touched and surprised him.

"What of his mind? He doesn't suspect anything."

"He is very intelligent. He's just...trusting." Clark could almost hear her grimace.

"You sound so sure of him...," the man spoke with a deep sadness.

"...I am."

There was a prolonged silence where all Clark could hear was both of their breathing, until finally Melissa spoke.

"I want this to be finished with Clark. I'm tired of lying to him and his family. He deserves to know what's going on," she spoke calmly this time.

"After what he's done, he deserves nothing." The man's voice was painfully harsh even from this distance.

She scoffed, but it sounded more exhausted than annoyed. "You cannot be so judgmental. He did what he had to to protect the world and you have no idea what it did to him. Besides we both know you would have done the same thing."

There was silence on the other end for what felt like hours, until finally the mysterious man spoke.

"There are still some things I need to know. He hasn't proven himself yet. The mission is not over."

"The mission is never over." He heard Melissa say sadly. Then she hung up. He heard a car engine turn over and pull out of the drive way.

The resounding silence left was deafening to Clark. Worse were the words the voice on the other end left. So many emotions swirled inside him, he didn't know how to feel: betrayal, anger, fear, sympathy, gratitude.

He felt betrayed. Melissa was brought into his mother's home because his mother trusted her. But of course she was the spy. It made perfect sense. And the comments she had made...how unfortunate for her that his hearing was so good. He had just refused to believe it.

Clark took a deep breath. A part of him wanted nothing more than to storm up to her and demand an explanation, but the cooler side of his brain reasoned with him. From the conversation he could gather that her spying was not something she enjoyed and clearly she wanted out, but was being refused. From the way they spoke it seemed like they knew each other. Perhaps she had gotten caught up with the wrong people and now whoever that was on the other line was using her. If that was the case, he had to help her. Still he would have to confront her. His hurt feelings aside in reality it was the voice on the other end that disturbed him. The voice seemed to be the one in charge.

And supposedly this man fought for justice. Clark grimaced. That description didn't exactly narrow his search. That could be law enforcement, the government, or the military...

Clark's jaw tightened in anger. General Swanwick? He had tried watching him before with drones. Perhaps now he was trying a more subtle approach. He wanted to charge to his base right then, but that wouldn't be smart. Besides, it didn't fit and the voice on the other end didn't sound like him. Of course, that man could just be one of Swanwick's men. The man's words and implied accusations angered him. He had basically called him a murderer. But Swanwick had actually lauded Superman a little when he learned of Zod's death. To him, Zod was just an enemy, therefore his death he could easily and readily accept. Plus how would Swanwick know her? So Clark doubted that General Swanwick was behind this. Still his uncertainty about General Swanwick and the general concern about the predicament he found himself in replaced any resolve he had to report to him about what had happened today until he could figure it out.

The military was out. For now, at least.

That left law enforcement, government...or another hero.

Clark shook his head. Speculation wasn't going to get him very far. His best bet was to gently persuade Melissa to divulge the truth behind the matter. If he could convince her that he could help her, she could be more willing to comply and finally he could solve at least one of the mysteries circulating in his life.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I want to thank whoever has been sending me reviews. It's very encouraging to read them. :) Thanks!**

**Also edits. **

**Chapter 17 **

This wasn't his first time questioning someone. It was however a novel experience to interrogate one he had considered a friend or at least a companionable acquaintance.

It was all in place. Lois had driven from Smallville and stayed up the entire night to plan. An impromptu visit to his mother was their excuse. His mom had already been informed of the situation and decided that she was not fit to be a part of the interrogation, citing she would probably threaten Melissa with violence long before she opened her mouth to explain. So she had picked up an early morning shift that Sunday.

Regardless of Clark's description of the conversation and how it suggested Melissa's unwilling contribution in the affair, she and Lois had both remained less than magnanimous toward the young woman. Lois, however, had been calm and confident about her ability to question Melissa as she was accustomed to handling possibly uncooperative sources especially those she found distasteful. For her, as long as they had airtight evidence she knew that she could crack anybody. In fact, she thrived on difficult sources and even took pleasure from weeding the truth out of them. His mild-mannered cover aside Clark usually shared her confidence, but at that moment he was less enthusiastic about confronting Melissa.

He knew he was right, but this was far too personal. Angry though he was, he strove to control it and did not wish to take it out on Melissa. His ire fell short of his mother's and Lois' fury, but it was probably because they hadn't heard what he had. They hadn't heard the desperation in her voice when she asked repeatedly for her work to be finished; how she passionately defended him and his honor; how she seemed to admire him. Her defense of him was what he expected from his mother or Lois. It was touching to hear it from almost a stranger. His anger, therefore, was tempered by empathy and gratitude. Besides, there was no way to know the full situation until they talked to Melissa. All of him understood and accepted this, but nothing was more difficult than greeting her cheerfully when they met at the door. The violation of his privacy was too fresh of a wound to be completely genuine in his friendliness, but he didn't want to scare her off either.

For that reason when he heard her walking down the stairs, he smiled at her. Even though he knew that it was a little strained, he meant it. She returned it, albeit a little tentatively. By the wary looks she was casting Lois he surmised that Melissa sensed something was off. As Lois had been civil, but cold, and his mom had simply ignored her presence, she hadn't spent much time with them the previous evening and instead had taken her laptop to the local library. Therefore that morning when she descended the stairs, Clark wasn't surprised it was with a slow gait. As she finally reached the landing, her eyes darted back and forth between him and Lois in utter confusion and trepidation. Before she could run or make an excuse to leave for the day, Clark stood to greet her.

He took a deep breath; he was ready to do this. Looking at Lois, he could tell she was as well, but with a far darker determination.

"Could we have a talk, Melissa?" he said in a friendly tone.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lois' irritated face at the niceties. But Melissa was standing as still as a statue and was eyeing the door.

"Actually, I think should go," she said a little warily.

"Without breakfast?" he asked as he moved to block her path.

She shrugged and smiled uncomfortably. "I'll pick something up."

"There's no point in that. My mom made pancakes," he insisted.

"I-"

"Please, Melissa, sit," he said more firmly this time.

After another moment's hesitation she finally relented and sat in the chair at the far end of the table. Clark sat down across from her and Lois remained standing. An awkwardness hung in the air and Clark smiled nervously.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine. You?" she asked with an attempt at an easy smile, but her eyes were painted with obvious confusion.

"Fine."

She looked at Lois for a moment, but said nothing. Clark took another deep breath. There was no point in dragging this out.

"Do you know why we're having this conversation, Melissa?"

"No," she answered.

"Are you sure?" Clark asked. Things would be so much easier if she just confessed.

She nodded, looking at him with increasing perplexity.

He cleared his throat.

"We know, Melissa."

She arched her eyebrow questioningly.

Clark had to hold back an exasperated sigh. "We know about you spying on me."

As she looked between Lois and Clark, her face went blank. Then she burst into a laughter that shook her shoulders. Lois and Clark shared an incredulous look; that was not the reaction they had expected.

"What are you talking about?" she asked gasping a little as she calmed down. "Why would I be spying on _you_ of all people? Clark, you are the most normal man I know."

Clark sighed, but he said patiently, "I heard you on the phone. You were talking about me."

"You've listened to my phone conversations?" she said with a slight angry edge.

Clark couldn't help feeling annoyed. Considering the current conversation, she had some nerve to find offence at her privacy being violated. When Clark spoke, his voice expressed this displeasure.

"Yes. I heard you talking about how you wanted to stop. How you didn't want to lie to me or any of us anymore."

All the color drained from her face.

"Care to explain that?"

She crossed her arms defiantly, but her eyes displayed her nervousness. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't, Melissa," he said staring at her firm enough for her to know that he was serious, but soft enough for her to know she was safe to be honest. Still he could see her calculating the situation. Looking for a plausible lie or dodge, but he knew there was none and he could tell she knew it too.

"Okay," she admitted softly, "I was spying on you."

"Why?" Lois asked a little harshly.

"I didn't have a choice!" she said defensively.

"What do you mean 'was'?" Clark asked.

She sighed a little defeated. "At first it was just the spying, but after the attack on you, he changed my assignment to also watch out for your Mom."

"You're my bodyguard?" he asked disbelieving. Melissa was a very fit girl, but he found it highly unlikely that she could serve as a competent bodyguard.

"Your mom's," she corrected.

"Who's 'he'? The man you spoke to," Lois asked with an edge.

She deflated a little bit. "I can't tell you who he is."

"Why the hell not?" Lois demanded.

Clark looked at Melissa again and he could almost feel the fear seeping from her. She had said she didn't have a choice. There was more to this. He placed a hand on Lois' arm.

"What did you mean by you not having a choice?" he asked gently.

"He's blackmailing me."

He wasn't familiar enough with the government to know if they would stoop to that level, but honestly, he wouldn't be surprised considering they kidnapped Lois and detained her without her rights being addressed. Still, Melissa was a highly accomplished young woman, what could be so damning to her?

"With what? Did you cheat on a test or something?" Lois asked sharply.

"No," she said laughing a little bit, like she would rather have it be something as mundane as an academic policy violation. "It's something much worse."

Clark softened even more. He was right: she _was_ in danger. He had to help her.

"What is it?" Lois dug into her some more.

She rolled her eyes. "Kind of the point of blackmail. I don't want anyone to know."

Lois sighed exasperated. "Then _who_ is blackmailing you?"

"_I can't tell you_."

Lois looked at Clark irritably. "Is there anything you _can_ tell us?"

She shook her head a little. "Let's just assume I can't tell you much."

Clark sighed. This was getting them no where, besides it was as he had originally thought: Melissa was not an actual threat to him. She seemed at war with herself and wanting desperately to tell him what was going on. He looked to Lois and saw that she wasn't too happy about the situation either. Although she appeared to keep her anger, he sensed it ebbing.

With a tortured look, Melissa turned to Clark, beseeching him. "You have to understand that I would never hurt you. I wanted to stop, but what he has on me...it could destroy my life."

"Listen-" He placed a hand on Lois' shoulder before she tore into the young woman at that comment. He understood; having someone untrustworthy know his secret could destroy their lives. He loved her for her protection of him and her loyalty, but sometimes she could be a little intense.

"It's okay, Melissa," he said gently. "Just...it's important that you tell us what you can."

A flash of gratitude passed over her eyes, as she started her story.

"The man I work for approached me in Gotham at a benefit for families affected by Zod's invasion. He said he knew my record in academia and wanted me for an internship in one of the divisions of his company. I accepted immediately. I didn't know that it had strings attached."

His company? That ruled out the government. Who ran a company and would want information on Superman? There was Lex Luthor and certainly he didn't like him, but the voice on the phone was unaltered. Clark would have recognized his voice immediately if it had been Lex.

"He confronted me in his office," she continued, "telling me he was starting something big and that he needed talented people like me, but he doesn't trust people unless he has caught them in something," she finished soberly.

Clark furrowed his brow. "I don't understand."

"He's not the most personable man. When it comes to certain things, he makes sure he has leverage."

_ That's how he garners trust? _Clark thought incredulously. What kind of person would do such a thing? Thinking back to when Lois and he first met, he could never have imagined pulling such a trick to win her silence. Instead he appealed to her heart and her good nature, as he always would towards everyone.

_Talented people. _Clark's head snapped up at the sudden realization.

"What is he planning?" Lois asked gravely.

"He didn't say. I think he wants you to be a part of it, though," she said nodding to Clark.

Clark was slightly taken aback. From the start, he believed that he was being observed as a possible threat not an ally. Again his mind went to Lex, but that voice hadn't been his.

"How do you know that?"

"Why else would I be your Mom's bodyguard?"

Clark nodded. "That makes sense. But if he wants my help, why haven't I heard anything about this?"

Even Lex had asked him outright. What was this guy's problem?

"Again, not a personable man," she replied. "He's skeptical of humanity, but he understands it. You're a wild card and he doesn't like that. He thinks you're too powerful to be implicitly trusted."

Whoever this person was, he didn't want to make teasing this knot apart easy. "So he knows who I am. Why hasn't he done anything about it?"

She shook her head. "He doesn't want to destroy you; he wants to understand you. That's why he sent me. He just wanted me to watch you and tell him what happened. He wanted to know every detail about your life here and how you were raised."

"Is there anyone else?" Lois asked. Clark wondered the same and instantly thought of Kassandra. It would be sensible to place someone wherever he frequented and their suspicions of Kassandra certainly placed her in potential candidates of office subterfuge. If it was her, then this person was also the author of the message. Clark wondered that if she was involved was she being blackmailed.

"That I definitely don't know. But my guess would be yes. Why?"

Although Clark believed her story, he wasn't going to tell her about the message Lois had received. Or their suspicions about Kassandra. He couldn't run the risk of Melissa informing her _employer _Melissa had said her employer was planning something that could involve him. In what way? But for what purpose? He wanted to learn how he was raised. To determine his character? Or was it just so this man would have enough dirt on him to control him? Then also there was the question of why this man would want to protect his mother. Perhaps to gain his trust? Or put him in his debt? There were too many questions.

"Are you sure that's all you know?" Lois asked more patiently this time.

She nodded. "He doesn't tell me any more than my own assignments."

Lois and Clark shared a look. Although her anger had eased, her skepticism had not.

"Listen," Melissa said obviously ashamed, "I am sorry. I didn't want to spy on you. And I'm sorry that I can't tell you more."

Clark gave her a reassuring look. Her lying aside, she had proven her loyalty by being silent about his secret identity. She could have used that information to destroy him, yet she had stayed and had even been willing to protect his family. Her story had confirmed his suspicions that she was acting against her will.

"It's alright. Thank you Melissa. We'll figure out who he is."

"The guest list of that benefit in Gotham is a good place to start," Lois said with a gleam of journalistic intrigue shining in her eyes.

"Right. We can run a background check on all of them to see if they are connected to any...dubious activities."

Although he was determined to solve this mystery, he didn't share Lois' excitement. In fact he felt a heated anger. It was obvious that this man wasn't afraid of him. Clark had faced few foes that were so unabashedly confident in their resolve, but to actually rope his family into his game either meant he was very stupid or annoyingly conceited. He felt a heat behind his eyes at this elusive person. He thought that he could toy with him and his family. And Melissa was just a girl that got mixed up in all of this. He vowed to discover the fiend behind this no matter how long it took.

"Wait!" Clark and Lois turned around surprised. Melissa had an odd look on her face: fierce and determined.

"I may not be able to tell you who he actually is, but maybe I can tell you about his _other_ identity."

"Who is he?" Clark asked in earnest.

"He _is_ in Gotham. And you've probably heard of him. He's someone who beats crime lords in his spare time, has a fetish for capes, and likes bats."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 **

Standing on the same rooftop where Batman confronted him the first time they met, now abandoned , Clark was left with his thoughts. He had only been there briefly and that experience hadn't allowed him to view Gotham beyond where he had stood. The city lived up to its notoriety and Clark wasn't sure he wanted to absorb the acrid atmosphere. Even though it was in the early evening, it was unusually dark. A thin layer of haze barely allowed the dying light to filter through onto the streets of the dirty city. What light was available seemed cold and unwelcoming. It seemed a place of perpetual twilight as a darkness clung to the city like wet clothing clings to skin. The blackness of the city mirrored his thoughts.

_What kind of man would use someone like that?_

Clark knew that he was naïve. Even when he was faced with the worst of humanity he believed in the best (regardless of the past months), so he was still surprised and angered that someone would use blackmail to gain an ally. He knew that Batman was hard and terrifying, but it was the man underneath the cowl that perplexed Clark. What beliefs did this man hold that he thought the best way to interact with people was through subterfuge? If this Batman wanted to contact him, he was open to a conversation. They had spoken before, although Batman had done most of the talking.

As he stood there silently wondering about the mysterious caped crusader, if he was honest with himself he knew a part of him dreaded their meeting. Batman was a kind of someone he had never encountered before beyond the usual smack talk, but he had to see him. He had to actually try to have a conversation with him. However, he knew Batman's abilities: how he moved like a deadly shadow haunting the dregs of society. As a master of stealth and shadow, he had a feeling that even with his enhanced senses, he would have difficulty finding him.

Suddenly his super hearing detected a high-pitched whir. Without looking he caught the incoming object easily and examined it. It was some sort of throwing star in the shape of a bat.

_ Way to keep to theme._

To Clark's astonishment, the small device began beeping and flashing. Clark barely had a second to react before it exploded in his hand. Although unharmed, he was disoriented and when the smoke cleared a lone dark figure stood on the opposite side of the roof.

Batman had found him.

Panting, he quickly regained his composure and faced him. Clark had a strong stature and was practically forged of steel, but that didn't stop him from noticing that the man before him stood looming, a long shadow drawing from him, making him seem larger than he was; although his normal stature was still imposing to an opponent. Standing at least at 6'4'', he was also broad shouldered and strong. His cape dragged dramatically and draped around him, his mask the face of fear and menace. He barely looked human. As though he were simply an extension of its shadow, he seemed confident and comfortable in the dark. Personified vengeance, an angel of doom, a dark knight. Clark knew had a power of mind as well of body. He would have to determine his secret. Despite his invulnerability, his heart beat a little faster. If there was a way to defeat the Man of Steel, this man would surely find it and more than likely already had.

Testing this theory was not the point of this meeting. Remaining impassive, he cleared his throat. "Hello," he said cordially, "I wanted-"

"Are you stupid?" Batman barked.

"What?"

"Are you deaf too? I thought I warned you about coming back," he growled. "You're either a moron, deaf, or you have some sort of penchant for punishment."

Clark raised his eyebrows. He refused to allow this conversation to be a repeat of the last time. Pulling back his shoulders and standing to his full height, Clark resolved that he would not be intimidated by this man.

"So which is it?" Batman snapped. He seemed unmoved by his change in demeanor.

"You must not talk to people much," he bit out.

"I find talking gets in the way of action."

"I never would have guessed," Clark said sardonically.

Batman said nothing, but Clark could have sworn that he saw him twitch if only slightly.

"You don't have a witty response to that?"

Batman remained still as a gargoyle. Exasperated, Clark continued. "Fine. I'll make my point. I don't want to be here any more than you do, but considering the circumstances, I figured we should meet and _discuss _what's been going on."

Batman smirked. "So you worked it out. Took you long enough."

Clark held back a scoff. "You didn't think I would?"

"No."

Clark's annoyance deepened. Putting aside everything his parents had taught him about politeness, he drove home the point.

"You were spying on me. Why?" he asked with a hard edge to his voice. However Batman seemed unfazed.

"No one man should have all that power. The seductive nature of power can bring even a righteous man to sin against others."

"And you thought stalking me was the answer?"

He nodded once. "I don't trust easily. Talk is just noise. Besides all things considered there's no reason I _should_ trust you."

Clark tried in vain to ignore the obvious dig, but it slipped right in. No matter what he did, no matter how long he lived, he would always carry the burden of his sin. But now was not the time for self-reflection, nor was it the time to show weakness. Therefore, Clark kept up his hard veneer.

"And you threw an explosive at me because..."

He shrugged a little. "I wanted your attention."

"Right. 'Talk is just noise.'"

Batman smirked and Clark sighed exasperated.

"What do you want from me?"

"The truth," he said simply.

"You don't know enough?"

"I don't often go out of my way to meet fellow crimefighters, but when it comes to one such as yourself, with your past," he paused significantly, "I make it a point to ferret out the complete truth."

He could admit to himself he was nervous, but at the same time he felt indignant at being judged by such a dark man. He knew Batman's reputation of excessive force and brutality. In his heart Clark knew that those flaws didn't add up to murder, but that didn't completely explain Batman's actions. Was he only there to pass judgment?

"What more is there?"

"I need to know," he said simply.

Batman shifted slightly and a small spherical device rolled toward him. The memory of the explosive fresh in his mind he stepped back and then from the ground burst forth a flash of blinding light. Clark cried out and shielded his eyes. Then something started pulsing with incredibly loud noise. It was over almost as soon as it had started. When he opened his eyes his vision was blurred and Batman was gone. There was something behind him. He turned and was struck in the face. That the blow had rattled him wasn't the only surprise, Batman was in some sort of mechanical armor. Easily Clark lifted him and threw him away from him.

Batman combat rolled to a standing position and sent a barrage of batarangs at him, which he deflected with controlled bursts of his heat vision. Then he felt the tear of fabric and flesh on his arm and cried out in pain. In anger he released his heat vision at Batman, but it wasn't a direct hit and caused minimal damage to the armor. It was however, enough to distract him giving Clark a chance to find the offensive batarang to inspect it.

It looked unremarkable until he tried examining it with his spectral vision. The colors of light refracted off the metal not allowing him to scan through it.

"Kryptonian metal." He heard Batman say. "And that's not your only weakness."

_What? _"Why are you doing this?"

"This is my job. I dispense justice."

Batman jumped up and attempted to strike him from above, but Clark caught him easily and threw him down. Clark glared at him in both anger and pain. While Batman was incapacitated, he took a moment to better look at the man. His eyes dilated in trying to see through his cowl, but failed. The masked man smirked again.

"Lead plating," he said smugly tapping his head.

Then Clark had a thought. Batman had worked for over a decade now. It stood to reason that he had several injuries. Quickly he scanned him from head to foot until he found something interesting. His body was ravaged with lost cartilage, scar tissue, and healing bruises, but nothing that could identify him until he got to his right leg. His right knee at some point had been replaced and he could just make out a partial serial number. Clark allowed himself a satisfied small smirk, but only for a moment until his eyes softened. Although he was angered by the circumstances, he was also stunned by how much punishment Batman's body had received over the years. Batman's commitment was not in doubt, but this level of constant injury and recovery...His nightly crime fighting seemed more like a penance than an act of vengeance. Clark readjusted his eyes to look him straight in the face.

"You didn't think I would make it that easy, did you?" he said still smirking.

He forced his face to stay maddened.

"Of course not. People like you never make things easy."

"I guess you're not entirely hopeless." He chuckled mirthlessly as he sent an uppercut at Clark. It connected painfully and sent Clark stumbling back a little. Taking advantage of the opening, Batman sent a storm of jabs at him faster and stronger than the average human. Each one he either dodged or blocked. Up, right, to the face, to the chest, right kick, front kick. Then Clark pushed him back open palmed. Batman stumbled momentarily before throwing a flying kick at him, which Clark caught and sent him careening into a wall. In a blur, Clark sped to him, and pinned him to the wall with one hand, holding his other fist at the ready. Then Batman activated a jet pack device sending them both into the air, where Batman shot him with a mini rocket. Although it sent him hurtling back, he froze the missile with his breath and flew after Batman. Punches were exchanged and blocked respectively. Until finally, Clark spun Batman around and pulled off one of the propulsion devices, but before Clark could react, Batman had pushed off of him and was gliding down back to the roof top.

Clark moved to follow him, but was distracted by a sound nearby. Coming from his back, Clark heard a distinct beeping noise and saw something flashing red. Barely a second passed before the explosive set off, throwing him off-balance for a moment, until he regained his composure to fly to the rooftop directly toward Batman. Batarangs were thrown to deter him, but he caught them all and crushed them easily as he landed. He zoomed to Batman, pinning him again, but instead of his fists he used his heat vision to fry the mechanical armor. The mechanism sparked and smoked as the lights died. Holding the de-powered man, he very slowly retracted his heat vision, but continued to glare.

The man gasped from the smoke. "Go ahead. It's not like it would be your first time."

Clark shoved him away with just enough force to cause Batman to stumble back into the wall of the enclosed stairs and knock the wind out of him.

"If you think I would kill you, you don't know me very well," he said quietly as he turned away. His hands were shaking.

"I know well enough. Or have you forgotten that day when you killed a man?"

"Who was going to kill everyone else," he said defensively.  
>"You think that's an excuse?" Batman demanded.<p>

"No!" Clark thundered loud enough to stun Batman into silence.

"I have never forgotten. Ever since what I did... it's always there. Every time I close my eyes I feel my hands around his neck. His voice, his final moments haunt my dreams. Every person I can't save shares his face. Zod was an evil man, but I didn't want to kill him. Believe me, I wish I had had another way to stop him. That's why everyday I vow to never take another life. That's why everyday I ask for forgiveness. You may know my name, where I live, my abilities, and my weaknesses, but you don't know anything about that day and every day after."

For once Batman's silence was not condescending. But Clark didn't have the patience to allow him a chance to speak.

"I will never forgive myself for what I've done. But I will move on from it. I will live and you do not have the right to threaten that life."

"Superman-"

"Stay away from my family," he nearly shouted. "Stay away from Melissa. Stay away from me."

Batman's face was unreadable, but Clark didn't care. He was done with Batman and with Gotham for the night.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 **

Taking a day off from the Daily Planet, he had done his civic duty at the voting booth. For the weeks before the election Clark had prayed to whomever was listening that Luthor would never seen the inside of the United States' Senate chamber. The Meta-Human Registration Act had been at its lowest percentage of support since its first presentation to the public, but having Luthor in the Senate could only bolster that support again. The thought had only encouraged his voting and his vehemence in reminding everyone to visit the polls.

He then had flown to Smallville with a just as vexing purpose. For that reason he had moved barely any faster than the birds that had shared the sky with him. The slow pace had given him time to think.

Although he had visited Smallville often over the past few months, he had adamantly refused to go to one place in particular: the IHOP. Yet he found himself sitting in one of its cold metal seats.

In his defense, he knew it was stupid.

The whole town of Smallville had been affected by Zod's invasion, but what had happened at the IHOP had been more intimate than he would care to remember. Not only had it been embarrassing to have his ass kicked in front of a former bully, but it had been uncomfortable when he had looked into the eyes of Pete and realized that he was finally and utterly out. Pete had known enough beforehand of course, but to be wearing a blue skin-tight suit and cape, for Heaven's sake, probably clinched it for him in a very unexpected way. So he had dreaded going to the International House of Pancakes. Regardless of his feelings, no one says no to pancakes, especially free pancakes, and he needed to get Melissa away from the farm and alone so he could talk to her.

After talking with Melissa, Lois had expedited a background check on her, which had turned up nothing. Of course whatever she was hiding probably wasn't public record, but something felt off. This added to Clark's imploration of his mother to allow Melissa to stay at the farm, which he had included would allow _them_ to watch _her_.

He could tell she knew Batman much more intimately than an blackmailer-blackmailee relationship. It was true she had worked for him in his company whatever that was, but their relationship was well beyond even that. How else could her candor with him be explained? He wanted to understand and he needed more information.

Confident though he was that he would be able to ascertain Batman's identity, whatever she was holding back could be extremely helpful to him. Also she needed to know what he had learned and what he planned to do about it. More than likely she would be reluctant about anything to do with Batman, but he had thought perhaps a more casual atmosphere would calm her. Batman knowing his secret was a large chink in his armor. He needed to show Batman that turnabout was fair play and teach him something about manipulating people. His conscience told him that perhaps bribery with food could be categorized as manipulation, but he justified it by reminding himself that the knowledge of Batman's identity could better help Melissa too.

Unfortunately for him, Melissa was no fool. She was suspicious the moment he had invited her to breakfast and the look on her face as they waited for their waitress to come made it clear her inkling had not waned in strength. Clark forced himself to stare at the menu and be as nonchalant as possible. Maybe she would relax and he could pull this off.

"So is this something you normally do with your workers?"

Clark sighed. Perhaps this was going to be harder than he thought.

"No. I just thought that you would enjoy a nice meal," he said in a friendly tone and placed a charming smile on his face for added effect.

"At IHOP," she deadpanned.

"Yeah. Who says no to pancakes?"

She cracked a smile."Well you have me there."

An awkward silence followed. Clark looked around and immediately his trepidation about eating there was justified. Everyone in the IHop was giving them sidelong glances, some of them less subtle than others.

"Everyone's staring at us," he whispered to himself.

"No, they're staring at you. I'm just around you." She smiled a little bit. "I guess I'm not the only one here who knows your secret."

Clark smiled awkwardly. He had figured everyone knew, but they could at least use some discretion. Even after months of this behavior, the openness with which people showed their knowledge, sometimes to the point of rudeness, was still something he was growing accustomed to. Deciding to ignore them, he ran through all the practiced conversational anecdotes he had thought of on the way there. His more important questions he would ease into the conversation once they had their food.

"Clark, other than for the pancakes, why did you bring me here?"

His eyebrows jumped a little. She was looking at him expectantly and he relented both annoyed and impressed with her shrewdness.

"I talked to... you know," he said raising his eyebrows significantly.

"You did? How did it go?" she asked urgently.

He winced. "It could have gone better."

"What happened?"

"We fought," he said a little awkwardly.

"What? Are you okay?" she asked with genuine concern.

He felt a twinge of annoyance. "I'm fine."

Melissa looked away embarrassed and Clark ignored his annoyed feelings. There was no reason for her to be that concerned, but it wasn't important.

"Anyway," he continued, "I learned a lot. And I just don't understand how you could get mixed up with someone like that."

She didn't take the bait. "I'm not gonna tell you what he blackmailed me with."

"You're just a kid."

"I know. Which is why the blackmail worked. I have no resources."

"Why you haven't spoken to the police?" he asked honestly befuddled.

She cast her eyes away for a moment. "I don't see how that would help."

"Blackmail is illegal; is what he has on you really that bad?"

She stared at her menu her eyes sorrowful. Again he was confused and not just a little suspicious.

"I just want to help you, Melissa," he said gently.

She smiled a little. "Clark, you _are_ helping."

"Hi!" said the waitress as she appeared at their table. She was tall, a little thick, but curvy, and she had dark brunette hair that softly sat on her shoulders. Her mega-watt smile and big blue eyes were completely glued to Clark. Clark could feel himself blush a little bit.

"I'm Mary. I'll be your server. What would you like?" she gushed.

Clark couldn't help, but smile a bit. When he saw out of the corner of his eye Melissa rolling her eyes though he regained his composure.

"Hot cakes, please. With coffee."

"And I'll have-" Melissa started.

"Coming right up!" Mary chirped.

Just as soon as she had arrived, she vanished. Clark tried to flag her down, but she had moved with such speed into the kitchen that if Clark didn't know any better he would have thought her Kryptonian. Looking at Melissa, he could tell she was a little miffed by the waitress' ignorance.

"Wow. I didn't realize that your presence caused others around you to become invisible."

Clark shifted uncomfortably. "She'll be back. Besides we still need to talk."

"No, we don't," she said firmly and nervously.

"Melissa-"

"You know, I'm not that hungry for pancakes." She started to get up from her seat, when Clark reached across the table to stop her, gently.

"Melissa, sit. Please," he said his voice matching the strength of his action. Hesitating only for a second, she relented and sat back down.

Clark sighed. "Melissa, to help you, I need to know everything."

She stared determinedly at the table. It was time to switch strategies.

"I know how to find out who he is."

Her eyes became as wide as saucers with...excitement? "You do? How?"

Clark hesitated. "That's not important, but I wanted you to know that I will discover him and I plan on confronting him again. Before I do, I wanted to know if there was anything else you need to tell me."

She hesitated, then said, "I've already told you everything I know."

She was lying. It was plain now. He understood that she might be scared, but it was almost over. Why wouldn't she help him? He could tell that she wanted to. Clearly at war with herself, she wouldn't look at him in the eye and she shook her head at whatever thought she was thinking. What was holding her back?

"Are you sure?" he asked trying to hide his skepticism.

Melissa looked away again, but when she made eye contact they were full of regret, fear, and sadness.

"Here they are!" Mary had returned with a big stack of pancakes, complete with a small pitcher of syrup, and a little bowl of butter palettes. She placed them on the table and turned from Clark to Melissa with a huge smile, which faltered upon viewing the young woman.

"Oh! Where did you come from?" she said in a forced cheery voice.

Melissa ignored the waitress, giving Clark one last, unreadable look. "I'm sorry, Clark," she breathed out as she got up to leave.

"Melissa!" He sat up out of his chair attempting to stop her again, but she dodged his grasp.

"Just remember that I'm sorry," she said her voice cracking a little, then she turned and hurried out of the restaurant.

* * *

><p>Disregarding that he was supposed to be off and all the odd stares he received for it, he rushed over to Lois' desk. However, he needed the advantage of having the total archived knowledge of the Daily Planet server at their disposal.<p>

He leaned over and whispered, "Lois I need to talk to you."

"And I need to talk to you," she said urgently and quietly. Motioning for him to follow her, she grabbed her laptop and walked into the storage room.

When they were inside and Clark had locked the door he looked at her questioningly.

"We need to be alone," she said simply. "Everyone will just think we're making out."

"With your computer?"

"I'm never far from work, Clark," she said seriously. Clark nodded and leaned against a stack of old newspapers while she booted up her computer.

"How did it go with Melissa?" she asked.

"Not well. I tried to get Melissa to tell me more, but she wouldn't. She was acting very strangely." Clark had at first chalked her hesitancy up to fear of her secret being exposed, but her behavior was inexplicable. Why did she want him to remember she was sorry?

"It's about to get stranger."

Clark cocked his head in confusion.

Lois looked a little sheepish before she explained. "Okay. I didn't believe her blackmail story. I know we already ran a background check. But no one is that clean and considering everything..."

Clark nodded his agreement. Before his conversation with Melissa, he may have dissented, but with how it went and his own suspicions, there was no reason to be overly generous with trust at that moment.

She continued, "I talked to a cousin of mine who lives in Star City and who is also a wizard when it comes to all things hackable. When she looked into her files, she discovered that they were dummies."

Lois clicked on several files to show college transcripts, newspaper articles, birth certificate, social security number, IP address, and something that looked like a permanent record. Every document was detailed and seemingly genuine down to the letter. Clark felt hollow.

How could he have been so naïve? To believe a spy to be trustworthy was probably one of the stupidest, most juvenile things he had ever done.

"Melissa Banks doesn't exist," he said dumbfounded.

"Exactly. My cousin was able to track the IP address of the computer that did all the work."

"Which is connected to her most recent permanent address and her true identity," he said still astounded.

Lois nodded.

Clark sighed. "Who is she?"

Lois clicked on another tab. It was Melissa's photo. ...No, not Melissa.

"Her name is Barbara Gordon. She's the daughter of Jim Gordon, Gotham Police Commissioner. She was on track American Olympic gymnast team, until she dropped out of the running when she was 14 years old. When she was 17 she went to college at University of Maryland earning a bachelor's in Criminology. After three years, she went on to graduate school at MIT earning a Master's of Science in Computation for Design and Optimization. She also has a rap sheet. When she was a teenager she had a habit of hacking into the police department's mainframe."

She clicked on another tab to show an article featuring the headline 'Local Teen Tests GCPD's Firewall and They Fail'.

"This all explains how she falsified her records so easily," he said revealing little emotion. He was...it was difficult to describe what he was feeling. He felt like he did before the scout ship. Just wandering around, not really understanding or trusting anyone. Except now he had more than one person in his corner. And this time he was also very angry.

"And it explains her strange behavior," Lois added. "There is more to Barbara Gordon than meets the eye and she didn't want you to know about it."

They both shared a significant look. Lois was silent, but Clark immediately read her thoughts as his instincts were screaming the same thing to him.

"You think she's willingly involved in this," he said.

Lois grimaced. "She does like getting involved in things that aren't her business. And something was wrong enough to go through all that trouble of creating a fake identity. I think she's more connected to a certain someone than it seems."

"Batman," he said gravely. Everything was falling into place. The clincher was _him_. "That's what I needed to talk to you about. I know how to find out who he is."

Clark moved toward the computer and hastily exited out of the superfluous tabs as he spoke:

"During our fight, I scanned his body. The guy's been injured a lot and I saw that at some point he had his knee replaced. I was able to see a partial serial number before he punched me in my face."

Lois looked surprised. "He punched you?"

"He was wearing a suit so he could hurt me," he said a little embarrassed.

"Okay," she said sounding a little concerned.

He smiled at her reassuringly. "I broke it."

She let out a relieved sigh.

"Good job with the serial number. You'll make an excellent investigative reporter yet," she said with a proud smile.

"Thank you. Anyway, if we match the serial number to current records at Gotham General we'll be able to find him."

Lois gestured toward the computer. In his life, he had done illegal things. Countless falsified identities and papers, stolen clothes, even occasionally property damage, (accidental and intentional) but he had hoped that was all behind him. It had been a naïve hope. With every investigation, every measure he took to keep his secret he imagined he would have to do illicit things now and then and some fundamental hacking skills would always come in handy. This was one of those moments. Medical records weren't public records and he had to know. This was the only way to do that; no one would be hurt by this. Except for maybe Batman and he could live with that thought.

Clark successfully pulled up the files and typed the number into the search engine. The search generated 20 entries.

"I think we can rule out the elderly people," Clark said as he narrowed his search to people under the age of 50. The list became considerably smaller; down to only five entries.

"She mentioned that he owned a company in Gotham, right?"

"Yeah," he said absent-mindedly as he scanned the names until he came to one that stood out starkly against the rest.

"Wait, this one," he said pointing to it.

Lois' eyes widened dramatically. "Oh my God," she whispered.

What would he need with a new knee? Clark understood that he lived hard and fast, but he was in his early forties. He did a quick Google search of the other names. They were people who had been in accidents or were athletes.

_ No, that's not possible._

But it was. That was the only explanation. Of all the people in the _world _he was the last one that could be Batman...which was the point. In spite of himself, Clark was impressed with his ability to hide in plain sight. For his secret identity, he strove to blend in, while _he_ stood out so much in such a flagrant manner that no one would think for a moment that he was anything greater or that he even cared about anything greater than himself. It all made so much sense. How else could he afford all of those toys? Clark wouldn't be surprised if he had manufactured some of them. He owned a large company. Few people would notice a few pieces of equipment missing.

"Are you sure you remembered the number correctly?" Lois asked in shock.

"Yes."

"What are you going to do? Confront him again? You know how that ended last time."

Clark shook his head. "I have to go about this differently. I've already confronted him in the cape. Maybe I should try it in the glasses."

Inexplicably she started smiling as she dove into her desk drawer. "How about somewhere there will be many witnesses and other reporters? Where talking to this person would make perfect sense from a journalistic standpoint?"

"That would be fantastic, but what-"

Lois whipped out two invitations emblazoned with the LexCorp insignia. They were invitations to a gala fundraiser for next Friday for the restoration of Metropolis and other places affected by the invasion.

"And you'll never guess who'll be in attendance," Lois said with a wicked smile.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 **

He understood that it was part of his persona. That the charade he had created allowed him to do what he had to do to honor his parents' memory in keeping their dream alive both by day and night. So he needed to at least look like he ran a multi-billion dollar company, while also convincing the populace that he couldn't be connected to his alter-ego. Sometimes that meant doing things he didn't derive pleasure from; he understood this and merely saw it as part of the job. Still if there was one thing he _hated_ about pretending to be a billionaire playboy or even just a CEO, it was going to the parties. No, that wasn't right. There were some he liked. He enjoyed being around the people he loved and respected. To stand shoulder to shoulder with people who fought the good fight like he did, like Oliver Queen, was something he was proud to do. He loved shaking hands with the noble citizens of Gotham and the upright members of the GCPD at so many fundraisers. Those were times when he could almost be his true self: not quite Batman, not quite Bruce Wayne, just Bruce.

So, no it wasn't the parties. Not all of them. He enjoyed the Christmas party, when his employees would bring their kids and he was reminded why he was fighting for this city. Seeing them happy and playing and scandalizing no one with their antics made him feel something in his heart he rarely felt now-a-days: joy. For a moment he would let down his guard and revel in the pure spirit of the gathering.

But he could not stand the galas.

Those were the ones where he had to paint the mask on thick to make the guests believe that he was truly one of them. Surrounded by the ones that he fought relentlessly on the outside of their penthouse apartments, yachts, country clubs, and beach houses, he felt out-of-place. For although he knew several genuinely good rich people who cared deeply for others and saw their wealth as a blessing and not a right, it was an unfortunate side effect of wealth that it attracted unpleasant ones as well. Or perhaps to be insufferable was a possible symptom of old money? Regardless, Fortune 500 companies did not always draw in the most scrupulous of people.

He often had to exchange pleasantries with people who were slime decorated in expensive watches, jewelry, and fur coats being carried by luxurious sports cars; the people who painted the picture of philanthropist when in reality not only did they profit from the regular Gothamites' misfortunes and misery, Bruce knew from their smug perfect smiles that on some level they revelled in it. Bruce despised them, but they _loved_ him.

As the charming, sophisticated man-boy that cared too much about playing with his toys and his parent's money to notice or care about the problems plaguing Gotham, he was amusing and a someone against whom they could self-righteously compare themselves to be better. He caused them no trouble and was good entertainment as he escorted one woman into the party and with a different one, departed. He smiled to himself and thought briefly that if his path had been different he would have made an excellent actor. Of course, there was a continuum of sliminess and Bruce had a high tolerance, but he could only stand the grimiest of the bunch for so long before he feared he would either vomit or punch them all. But his ability to cope stood for long periods of time; hours really. After years of exposure, he had built an immunity. Long enough to smile and shake hands for the duration of the party before he felt like he needed a shower.

There was one person however who was able to really challenge his self-control the instant he was near the man. One person who often tested how well Bruce could hide his other face. One person who was the king of corruption and took being oily as a virtue. And unfortunately, the one person who was the host of tonight's festivities...

"Hello, Bruce."

_Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. _

"Hmm."

Bruce barely cast him a glance as he knew who it was by his voice. It could be heard often now; on the radio, on television behind a podium, and disturbingly enough, soon his voice would be heard in the halls of Congress.

The intruder chuckled. "That's right. You never were partial to conversations with me. That's fine; I'll talk enough for the both of us."

Bruce kept his gaze forward. His companion seemed unabashed by his less than warm reception. In fact, he was quite at ease. That bothered him greatly.

"In fact it might be easier for you to just listen," he continued. Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce could see the man smiling to himself in a twisted way, like he was setting a delightful trap and only he knew where the trigger was. Of course, he had no idea whom he was talking to. If he had, Bruce may have witnessed a rare instance of respect out of the man. Maybe even fear.

"I was thinking about a business proposal between our two companies. More of a coöperation between them actually. I want to make a new line of tech, but it requires rare materials. I need more and I am having some difficulty procuring it."

"Really? How rare?" he asked dryly.

"'Not of this Earth' rare."

Bruce lifted an eyebrow, understanding instantly and dread swept into him. But with a carefully controlled voice he asked, "What exactly did you have in mind?"

* * *

><p>Clark looked around, straightening his tie and telling himself that he was sweating because he was wearing his supersuit under his tux and not because he was nervous. This wasn't Clark's first assignment among high-powered people, but his anxiety stemmed from something more important than using the wrong fork or 'accidentally' spilling some champagne on one of the guests. Bruce Wayne knew who he was and frankly, the man put him on edge.<p>

He felt exposed and vulnerable, not normal sensations for the Man of Steel. The problem wasn't only that he knew (an entire population of a small Midwestern town knew his identity). It was that there was little to go on to determine his true character or his motivations for his actions other than the comments he had made during their fight. He had said that he wanted the truth, but then Melissa-Barbara had mentioned that he was planning something else. Her own dishonesty not withstanding, he didn't have evidence to confirm or deny if Batman had other plans for him.

He knew the stories of the billionaire playboy and philanthropist, along with the escapades of his caped persona, but he wondered about the _real _Bruce Wayne. Who was he behind both masks? Although he was unnerved by the man, he felt him to be a kindred spirit in a way. They had a great deal in common: both were orphans although from very different classes, both sought to protect, and both of them had more identities to juggle than a normal person should. Their methods were different and Clark would wager that their ideologies were different too. This man was unpredictable. He could only take comfort in the fact that Batman had no idea that Clark knew who _he _was. That gave him the element of surprise at least.

He tapped his breast pocket to reassure himself the package was secure and continued to search for the elusive man. It shouldn't be too difficult for him, even in this din, right? There were people milling about, some more steadily than others, drinks in hand, talking, laughing, dancing to the rousing jazz number the band was playing. All the men were dressed in black tuxedos and the women wore elegant gowns. He had to blink several times as flashes of light glinted off of their florid decorations. Thanking God for his eidetic memory, he scanned every face in the room trying to match them to the picture in his mind he had memorized off of photo reels from the Daily Planet and other newspapers. He wasn't at the bar, on the dance floor, at any of the tables, nor was he loitering on the wall socializing—where was he?

"Clark."

Clark turned to Lois walking up to him with one flute of champagne. She was glowing in a soft forest green dress with a heart-shaped neckline and transparent green material sparkled over the satin skirt of her dress.

"Liquid courage," she said affectionately.

He chuckled. "Alcohol doesn't affect me." He took it anyway and wondered why she hadn't brought one for herself.

"Oh, that's too bad."

He didn't need the extra courage. His anger and wounded pride served as enough motivation. There was only one problem.

"I haven't found him yet," he said staring around the room.

"Stop looking then."

"What?" he asked confused.

"Clark, you are very tense and obvious. He's not stupid. If he sees you and you look like you're looking for someone, he can very easily surmise who that someone is. So, stop looking." She turned toward the dance floor. "And dance with me."

The music had changed to a love ballad. A young man in a suit and hat caressed the microphone as he sang. Clark smiled warmly as she gently led him to the dance floor.

'Here we are, on Earth together just you and I...'

Inhaling deeply, he luxuriated in the scent of her hair. How long had it been since they had done this? To just be together for a moment. Clark couldn't remember. The past few months had flown and under the stress of everything, they hadn't taken time for _them_. It came with the territory of his jobs, but before all the troubles and mysteries reared their ugly heads, they had always found a way. When was the last time they had made love? When was the last time he had told Lois that he loved her? Or told her how much he valued her love and support?

"Lois?"

She looked up at him with fondness.

"I know I say this all the time...But part of me still thinks this is a dream."

"I know; this is so ridiculous," she said shaking her head.

"No, not this. _This. __Us,_" he said vehemently. When was the last time they had talked about something other than their problems?

She smiled. "It's not a dream though."

"I know. But sometimes it seems too good to be real. Things have been crazy and lately I haven't been...," he paused unsure how to continue, "I just want you to know I love you, Lois."

"I love you too," she said it genuinely, but she also looked concerned. "Clark, what's wrong?"

"I don't want it to end."

"What makes you think this is going to end? The stuff with Batman?"

"I can handle Batman," he said a little darkly, but then a slight apprehension slipped into his eyes. "My weakness though; I just have this feeling that something else is coming."

She took his face her hands and brought him closer until their lips were a breath apart. "Clark, you're stuck with me. The universe could try to tear us apart and it would lose every time," she whispered with a quiet passion.

'I found my strength in you cause in my mind you will stay here always in love...'

"_This _is greater than anything that can be thrown at us."

"What would I do without you, Lois?"

"Oh, crash and burn," she joked.

Clark smiled brightly and kissed her deeply.

'...in love. You and I, you and I, you and I..."

The song ended and they parted. For a moment he basked in the warm glow of the love they had for each other. Slowly he opened his eyes and sighed contentedly. But when he looked up, he froze.

"Clark, what's wrong?"

"I found him," he said darkly.

Out on the balcony he saw two men standing having what appeared to be a tense conversation. Instantly he recognized the tall, dark-haired man as Bruce Wayne, but the other was more familiar to him.

As the other man wore a completely white satin suit, he stood out starkly against the crowd. Broad shoulders, a few inches shorter than Bruce, he had a strong stature. However his eyes spoke of an extreme and dangerous intelligence that gave anyone staring into them a feeling of immense distrust. And yet his smile was charming. With his trademark bald head, the man was immediately recognizable. He was the host of the gala, the man behind the curtain on the Meta-Human Registration Act, the man who had threatened him.

He was Lex Luthor.

Clark's brow furrowed. _What would Bruce Wayne be doing with Lex Luthor?_

"What is it?" she asked in obvious concern. The light-hearted moment had dissipated replaced with urgent business.

"Let's keep dancing," he whispered as he moved them closer to the center of the dance floor. With his height he could see them over the heads of the other dancers without seeming too conspicuous.

"He's talking to Luthor," he whispered to her.

"What? What are they saying?" she whispered earnestly.

"Give me a second."

He focused on the two men and let his hearing pick up their conversation. There was a slight buzzing until it cleared and zeroed in on the two men speaking:

"You know of the recent meteor showers?"

It was Luthor.

"Yes. Everyone does; it's been all over the news." That was Wayne. The voice Bruce used was smoother compared to his alter-ego's rumble.

"My scientists believe that these meteorites can be used as a new energy source. We were able to retrieve some samples from the Indian Ocean. However, we need more for extensive testing and it was very difficult and expensive to find the samples that we have from there. Most of the rocks plunged too far below the surface beyond where any vessel could withstand pressure. My efforts to excavate them from areas in the U.S. where they have fallen have been...stymied." He sounded frustrated, but as though he was trying to remain charming.

Wayne hummed."Too bad about the Sahara desert. I heard that it was picked clean before the government got there." Clark saw Wayne turn to Luthor with slightly quirked lips that were barely obscured by him drinking.

"I guess you missed your chance."

"Yes." Clark heard Luthor say stiffly.

"Well, I can see you're in a bit of a quandry there Lex, but why do I feel like you'd just be using my name and my company's reputation to excavate in the Canyonlands?" Wayne asked.

Clark saw Luthor feigned innocence and shook his head. "Two rival companies working together toward a better future. I thought it might be inspiring."

"Probably wouldn't hurt the public opinion of you either, Senator," he spoke the last word with just a hint of bile.

Lex chuckled. "Also, I thought you liked clean, renewable energy."

Wayne stood silently and thoughtful for a moment. "You know," he said slowly, "there are 1.4 billion people who have no access to electricity. Solar can change that. These materials could be dangerous to the public."

"Which is why I'm testing them," Lex replied a little impatiently.

He saw Wayne stare at the other man. "And I would hardly call materials from space renewable, Lex."

"Are you suggesting that I have an ulterior motive?" Luthor almost sounded insulted.

Clark saw Bruce feign an aghast face. "I would never. I am simply trying to warn you against a poor decision. Business-wise, anyway."

"My business is just that. So you don't have to worry."

"Actually if you want my partnership, I do." Bruce gave him a cold smile. Luthor looked uncomfortable and said nothing.

"Come on Lex, you can tell me. What are you going to do with the meteor rocks?"

There was a long silence in which Clark could see each man hold the other's gaze steadily.

"I care a great deal about our security. This endeavor is simply a way to fortify it," Luthor said somberly.

"I also care about our security. But I'm not sure you're the man I want as an ally."

"So you won't join me?" he asked with barely suppressed anger.

"No."

Clark's eyes widened in surprise. The two men were interrupted by a young dark-haired woman in a long red dress who made a bee-line to Lex's side and whispered something in his ear. Turning back to Wayne, he said "That's disappointing. I was hoping—" Clark saw him shake his head and when he lifted it Lex had a cold smile on his face. "Tell you what: I'll let you think about it."

And left with the woman. Clark narrowed his eyes. As he walked by, he carefully avoided eye contact with the man, but he noticed the ugly look on his face.

"Clark?" He looked down at Lois in surprise as he was jolted back to normal hearing range.

"What did they say?"

Clark paused trying to absorb everything he had just heard. "They were talking about the meteors. I think you were right that Luthor excavated in the Sahara."

"What did he want with Wayne?"

"He wanted his help with something to do with the meteors. In the Canyonlands. He said no," he said the last bit a little astonished.

All Lois did was raise an eyebrow. "What about Luthor?"

"Luthor said he was making technology using the meteor rocks to fortify security."

"Do you think he-" she asked a little fearfully.

"I think you were right about everything," he said slowly.

"What are you going to do?"

He looked over to the balcony where Wayne still stood. "What I came here to do," he said with determination.

Slowly, as he walked to the balcony he thanked Perry for assigning him and Lois Luthor as their story and took a deep breath. Wayne's back was to him, but he sensed that the man was poised for action. He wondered if he was expecting Clark there. It was now or never. Clark had to show this Bruce Wayne he wasn't to be tangled with. But first he had to play the part he was given. He cleared his throat. The man turned and he noticed Wayne's eyebrows lift in surprise to see Clark standing there. Quickly, he put on a neutral, but interested face. Clark smiled satisfied, as he put on his mask and said,

"Mr. Wayne? My name is Clark Kent from the Daily Planet. Could I have a word with you?"


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 **

It took a moment to recognize who he was. Of course, Bruce already knew and he had seen photos of the journalist beside his byline, but it was a completely different experience actually seeing him standing there as Clark Kent compared to whom he saw the other night. Superman stood tall and proud with his hair slicked back. His composure exuded confidence and a command of his surroundings, aloof, but caring. Superman, like Batman, stood in stark contrast to reality.

The man before him now was just as tall, but his shoulders slumped very slightly, his hair was loose and curly, his face bespectacled. The amalgamation of dress and attitude spoke of an educated and capable man, albeit unassuming with just an air of naiveté. Bruce wondered if this was an act or if this was the true man. It was always difficult to tell with people like the two of them. Which was the mask and which was the man? Or maybe they were both and the man only showed through with those in his confidence. Regardless, in this moment he was obviously playing his assigned role to have a normal life. If he knew about him, it was difficult to tell, but he refused to relinquish his guard. For the time being, Bruce would play along and cast a charming smile toward the younger man.

"Mr. Kent. I don't usually give interviews at parties, even for the Daily Planet."

He shrugged easily while still retaining his unassuming nature. "I thought maybe you would make an exception."

Bruce cocked his head to the side still bearing his boyish smile. "I don't make exceptions. Why don't you enjoy the party, Mr. Kent?"

Kent smiled a little at this.

"Part of being a journalist is that even at social functions you're always working. Especially ones that include such influential people."

He appeared undeterred and Bruce felt annoyance creep into him. "Even influential people need some time to play."

"You should know."

Bruce ignored the jab at his playboy antics.

"Which is why I don't give quotes at parties. Make an appointment," he said a bit too sharply, but the man was starting to irritate him.

"Others have tried before. You're a very difficult man to reach." This man was relentless and Bruce had to take a deep breath to regain his charm. He turned to him with a fake smile and easy shrug.

"I don't know what to tell you. I like my privacy. Now _take a break_ and enjoy the party." He patted his shoulder and started to walk away.

"That is very tempting. And I understand that you would want some respite too. Especially since men like us so rarely get them," Kent said behind him.

Bruce didn't turn. He was well-practiced in controlling his face, but on a hunch he realized that he shouldn't risk giving anything away. Instead he pretended he was fascinated by his drink and didn't turn around.

"I'm not sure what you mean," he said in a nonchalant voice.

Bruce heard the fabric of Kent's suit ruffle. _He must have shrugged._

"I...just mean you're very busy. So am I. I imagine that someone like you would have _interesting_ hobbies."

At that he turned around with a charming smile carefully placed on his face. When he saw Kent it faltered. It hadn't been a shrug. He was standing straight-backed now. Such a strange experience it was to see Superman wear glasses. Bruce rolled his shoulders back as well and set his face stoically. He was taller than Kent and decided to use it to his advantage. He was Batman. He feared no one. He _was _fear.

"Interesting hobbies, you say? I imagine you do the same." Bruce finished off his drink.

"Good night, Mr. Kent. Be sure to leave a message with my secretary. I'm sure I'll remember you," he said all of his charm gone.

Kent was no longer smiling too. "I'm flattered. Considering last time you were the one who left an impression." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small object wrapped in cloth and stretched out his arm to him. "I believe this belongs to you."

Bruce was eyeing Kent. His expression was unreadable. Bruce stepped forward and took the object. It was bundled in a simple white cloth, but he knew what it was before he unwrapped it. Highly contrasted against the white surface lay his custom-made Kryptonian metal batarang. Bruce smiled a little. So many emotions swam through him as his heart beat just a little faster. Surprise, begrudging awe, and a bit of relief.

"That really hurt, by the way." Bruce looked up to see Kent smirking and he chuckled.

"I imagine you're not used to that." He heard Kent chuckle. "I have to admit I'm impressed and not just a bit relieved. I was worried that you were all brawn and no brains."

He sighed. Never before had he been wrong about someone. Usually he could easily dissect a person, what their motivations are, their abilities. Barbara and Kassandra had been right. Thinking of them, he frowned a little. Kent hadn't solved the riddle completely, but perhaps, just this once, he would throw him a bone.

"I hope you weren't too angry with them," he said congenially. "They were only following orders and they like you."

"I like Barbara and Kassandra too," he said after a moment's hesitation. he could tell that Clark's feelings were complicated toward their mutual friends.

Bruce's eyebrows shot up into his hairline briefly before he regained his cool again. This man was better than he had thought. There was no identifiable information Barbara divulged and she was an accomplished hacker. Digging her out would have been difficult for anyone. And Kassandra was crafty and intelligent. Once again he was impressed.

"So you're not angry, Clark?" A familiar voice spoke behind them.

* * *

><p>"Kassandra," Clark said with just a hint of surprise; he had had no idea that she was there, but he supposed that she had the ability to remain unseen. Other than that, he had only blinked once.<p>

"So it _was_ you the whole time," he said, "at the bank, at work with the note..."

Although she seemed a little taken aback by his , she nodded.

All this time, it _had_ been her. He had strongly suspected of course, but seeing the truth in front him was surreal. Everything made perfect sense. The way she had looked at him and the way she had encouraged him during his anxiety over the legislation, through the lens of the truth her motivations were clear. Of course she had understood what he was going through; she had known who he was the whole time. And the meta-human who had helped him had been her. He smiled a little at the thought.

"How long have you-?" she asked a little awkwardly.

"A while." Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"What gave me away?"

He shrugged. "Just a feeling."

Her eyes softened. "I am sorry, Clark. I didn't want to lie to you. But I had to."

"I know," he said softly.

He wasn't angry. All of their time together she had spouted her loyalty to him and had proven that loyalty to him repeatedly. Looking in her eyes, he could see her guilt and shame. How could he be angry?

"Yes, she had to," Bruce cut in. Clark turned to Bruce. _Because of you, _he thought a little bitterly.

Looking between them Clark didn't know where to start. He had so many questions. What was Bruce's plan? How did it involve him? He started with what he believed to be the simplest one.

"So what happens now that everything's out?"

Bruce's eyes shifted. "There is much to be discussed, but I'm afraid this is not the time nor the place."

"Do you wanna get some coffee or something?" Clark asked a little facetiously. Why must there always be a delay with him?

Suddenly they heard crashes and screams down the street. All three of them turned to see cars being shoved out of the way and flipped over by an unseen force. The path of destruction came closer and closer. Clark zoomed in with his vision to see the cause. It was a man. When he stood he was at least 6"4'. He had dark brown hair with dark eyes that contrasted against his white shirt, but matched his black overcoat. Interestingly Clark could see something green and circular underneath his shirt. After the invasion, this would be Clark's first encounter with another super-powered being on the battlefield.

"Superman!" The man yelled out. "Come out, come out wherever you are!" He circled around, searching.

"Who is that?" Clark asked out loud.

"No one good," Bruce said before he whipped out his phone and dialed something. Clark wondered ironically if Bruce was calling the police. What was he doing on his phone at such an urgent time? Meanwhile the man on the street continued to yell and cause havoc.

"Not coming? Maybe this will inspire you!" The man yelled as he grabbed the nearest pedestrian by the throat and lifted her into the air.

"If you don't come out, I'll snap this girl's pretty little neck," he threatened shaking the young woman a little for emphasis.

Clark immediately pulled at his tie, but was stopped by Bruce's hand on his shoulder.

"We need to do something," he said through gritted teeth.

"We will. But I'll go first," he said in a calm, but commanding voice.

"What?!"

Bruce didn't answer as he snaked his way into the shadows beyond the crowd and vanished. As he watched he realized that Kassandra had disappeared as well. Annoyed by the command and their impromptu departure, Clark sped away and quickly changed into his uniform. He flew above them to get a better view and assess the situation. Clark would handle this; Bruce was not in charge of him.

The man appeared to be normal except for his unusual strength and whatever was protruding from his chest underneath his shirt. Clark deduced that perhaps that device gave this man his strength, but he wasn't here to ask questions, so he began to descend close enough to face this man.

"It looks like he's not coming. Such a pity to kill something so pretty," he sneered at her.

"Let her go," Clark said in his most commanding voice.

The man looked up at him with surprise and sneering joy. "Superman! So nice of you to join us!"

"I said let her go."

The man looked utterly confused and amused. "Don't you want to know why I'm here?"

"No. I want you to let the girl go." If there was one thing he hated about some criminals more than their crimes, it was their want to play games with him. The man only looked more amused however and was relentless in continuing his fun.

"That's not following the script Superman. It goes like this: you ask me my name. I tell you. Then I tell you what I'm here for. We fight. I win."

Clark glared at the man, who merely smiled.

"Fine, I'll start. You can call me Metallo." He gestured for Clark to say his line, but he said nothing. The man rolled his eyes in exaggerated exasperation.

"You're bumming me out, Superman. How am I going to enjoy this if you don't play along?"

"Here." He released the woman to the crowd and she quickly disappeared. "Now will you ask me the question?"

It took all of his will to not roll his eyes. "What do you want?"

"Revenge. And money. But mostly revenge."

The confusion must have shown on Clark's face because Metallo chuckled.

"He's paid a pretty price, Superman. Even gave me an upgrade." He tapped the device on his chest. "But don't be offended. I'm not doing this just for the money."

Suddenly the man jumped with amazing force and threw an uppercut at him. Surprised Clark didn't react in time, but soon got control of his body. The strike and the short exposure to the meteor rock had shaken him. He ignored it and looked down to see Metallo jump into a nearby window with a great crash. The large window that faced the ballroom.

_Lois. _

The zoomed through the hole Metallo had created and slammed him into the ground. People were screaming and panicking as they ran frenzied from the room Metallo had already begun to destroy. Tables were turned over and somehow the bar had caught fire, but he felt a wave of nausea and pain wash over him. He groaned as he staggered back to his feet.

"Are you feeling alright, Superman?" Metallo asked in mock concern. The pain was unbearable and it took all his strength to stay upright.

"Oh it must be this."

He opened his shirt to reveal a circular device in the center of chest and at the heart of it lain a large refined shard of meteor rock.

"A gift from a mutual friend. You have no idea how long I've waited to do this."

Metallo punched him with all of his strength up into the ceiling which cracked from the impact of Clark's body. The agony of the meteor rock still radiating through out his body, he couldn't stop himself nor could he prevent himself from falling uncontrollably.

He landed painfully on the ground and couldn't find the strength to stand. He opened his eyes and was horrified to see Lois unconscious a few feet away from him. Quickly he scanned her. She was alright except that her ribs were broken. She needed to get out and get to safety.

"Lois," he whispered as loudly as he dared as he could hear Metallo slowly approaching. Slowly she regained consciousness and when she noticed him, her eyes widened with fear. He smiled a little bit to reassure her and very slightly signaled with his head for her to leave. Hesitating only a moment, she nodded and ran as fast as she could with her injury.

He felt a boot fall heavily on his back. "You are one tough son of a bitch."

Metallo kicked him in the back of the head and Clark saw stars dance before his eyes, tasting blood in his mouth.

"All of that destruction; the carnage from the invasion and you came out in one piece while the rest of us, well, didn't."

Clark felt the boot underneath him and was turned over like a burrito by Metallo.

"But I was given a second chance," he said pointing to the device. "I'm more machine than man now, but I suppose I should be thankful. I'm strong enough to repay you for what you did."

Metallo went to stomp on his face and with every ounce of energy he had, he forced it into his eyes sending a blast of his heat vision which hurt Metallo enough to distract him. Disoriented, Clark sent another blast strong enough to push Metallo 10 feet back. Clark staggered to his feet as Metallo ran at him with an angry cry and attempted to tackle him, but Clark stood firm. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he clasped his fists together slammed them down into his back. With a cry Metallo crumpled to the floor. By the back of his shirt Clark pulled him up and threw him away with as much strength as he could muster. But Metallo recovered and punched him the stomach. Clark doubled over, allowing Metallo to grasp his neck and lifted him freely into the air. Metallo pulled his arm back preparing to strike when a high-pitched whine reverberated across the room.

A bat shaped piece of metal lodged into his 'heart'. He looked momentarily confused until it detonated; the force sending him backwards and separating him from the meteor rock fragment. Too weak to stand or escape, Clark fell in a heap next to the offending object. He heard two pairs of footfalls from behind running toward him and knew they were Bruce's and Kassandra's. Faintly, he saw Bruce pick up the meteor rock and hand it to Kassandra. There was a blaze of blinding light and Clark felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest and the pain ebbed away from his limbs.

He blinked to clear his vision and when he looked up he saw Kassandra and Bruce both in uniform standing over him. Kassandra was holding the now opaque white rock.

"Are you alright, Kal?"

* * *

><p>Her ribs were broken, she knew that much. But she refused to stop moving and give in to shock and to panic. Walk, walk, keep walking. Focus... Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, left...She collapsed against the wall of the building. Somehow she had gotten outside. Clark was going to be alright. Everyone was going to be alright. Swallowing she shakily stood and started walking again, but she honestly didn't know where she was going.<p>

Suddenly blaring lights were in front of her and a motorcycle barely missed her. The shock of the near accident sent her already unsteady body backwards into the same wall from before. The biker had stopped a few feet away from her. This person was dressed in a tight black suit and helmet with its visor down.

"Watch where you're going!" she yelled at her almost killer, but the fierceness in her voice faltered from the pain and exhaustion and she leaned into the wall for support. The biker dismounted her vehicle and walked towards her.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she felt her body weakening and she slid down the wall a little.

The biker stopped in front of her and began to examine her, but the image of her swam in front of Lois' eyes. She couldn't keep track of where this person was.

"You have several broken ribs and you're in shock. You need medical attention," said the stranger. She wanted to say 'No shit' to the woman's obvious assessment, but her strength was waning quickly. Her voice sounded a little familiar, but she couldn't place it.

The attempted recall wasn't helped by Lois' injury. She could feel herself slipping into unconsciousness. There were spots in her eyes and they expanded, encroaching on her vision.

"Lois? Lois!" the voice cried.

_Lois isn't here right now. _ _Please leave a message. _Her mind thought groggily until everything went blank.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Thank you again for the review! I'm always happy to see them in my inbox. :)**

**Chapter 22 **

The next time Lois opened her eyes she was in an unfamiliar room on a very comfortable bed. Slightly delirious from her injury and sleep, she looked around the room. The walls were a warm burgundy. The hard wood floors were deep mahogany. And the bed was a queen with fluffy pillows and a soft comforter. Looking around she noticed medical machines and equipment that stood to the far side of the large room surrounding a regular examination table.

She shifted slightly and regretted the movement as the pain in her ribs twinged. She felt them gingerly. They were bandaged professionally and amazingly she felt very little pain. Her head hurt a little, but other than that she was physically fine. But her mind had cleared enough to assess in increasing anxiety about where she was. And where Clark was.

Dressed in a plain cotton shirt and pants, she wondered in horror who had dressed her. Who had bandaged her? Even more confused and a little frightened, she looked for her purse, which was on a chair next to her bed. Carefully she reached for it and bit her lip as her ribs ached and twinged. She dumped it out on her lap and searched through its contents. Nothing was missing. Her cellphone was even fully charged. She dialed Clark. Where was he? Was he safe? Who was that man who attacked them? Too many questions and none of them could be answered as her call went to voicemail. Growling in frustration, she decided to leave a message:

"Clark, it's Lois. Where are you? I don't even know where _I_ am. Call me back."

_Where am I? _

Then Lois heard someone approaching. Although wherever she was and whoever had brought her there appeared to be friendly, she wasn't taking any chances. Stuffing everything back into her purse, she threw it back onto the chair, lain back on her pillow and feigned sleep just as she heard the door opening and soft footfalls walk toward her.

* * *

><p>The mansion was no different from when she was 12. It was surreal to be back in the place. Barbara walked down the silent corridor of the mansion at a slower pace than she normally walked. She wanted to absorb all the memories there, but also she wasn't looking forward to what she was about to do even though it was the right thing. If Clark was going to join with them, she would be seeing a lot of Lois and she needed to clear the air. All business aside though, she really wanted Lois' forgiveness. Lois was someone she greatly admired and frankly she wanted to be her friend, but she was nervous. She knew that she had hurt both of them and something told her that Lois would be less than forbearing.<p>

She paused before she opened the door and took a deep breath. This was important. The medical wing looked more like a bedroom than a hospital. The only evidence it was a medical room were the equipment and machines. Alfred prioritized comfort after proper treatment was administered.

Lois was on the bed in the medical wing resting, so Barbara approached quietly. She was breathing deeply and appeared to be fast asleep. She told herself that she was being respectful by not disturbing her rest, but really she felt relieved for the chance to escape and turned to leave.

"Barbara?" Lois said. Barbara jumped at the sound of her name and then sighed. She had expected to be on the other side of this conversation.

She turned around slowly, expecting and receiving an icy glare from Lois. Her eyes roved over her uniform in what appeared to be shock mixed with rage.

"That is your name, isn't it?" Barbara's heart started beating faster.

"Hello, Lois," she said meekly. Lois' glare hardened a little.

"I knew you were in deeper than you let on," she said dangerously quiet.

Barbara took another deep breath. "Listen I know you're upset with me, but I came to see if you were alright."

"I'm fine. Alfred has been taking good care of me. Where's Clark? And your boss." She sent another glare at the mention of Bruce.

"The Batcave...with Kassandra," she said cautiously.

Lois raised her eyebrows incredulous. "The _Batcave_? Kassandra? Can't say I'm surprised about that one." Lois sighed exasperated.

Barbara raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry that Clark couldn't come up yet, but Bruce insisted that he focus."

"Heart of steel he has."

"He's always had a one-track mind," Barbara said carefully.

Lois scoffed a little. Then she shook her head, but stopped and put a hand to her pained face. Barbara rushed over to her with a glass of water.

"Here," she said gently. Lois took it and drank.

"I guess your feelings about him must have been an act too," she said.

Barbara chuckled without mirth. "No. My relationship with Bruce is...complicated." Lois looked confused, but she didn't want to rehash all the gnarly details of her past life so she cleared her throat.

"How are you, Lois?" she asked changing the subject.

Lois looked at her knowingly. "_I'm _fine. How is Clark?" She made to get off of the bed, but Barbara stopped her.

"He's fine."

Lois went to protest and Barbara cut her off. "I promise. Lois please rest. You are in the safest place possible." Lois gave her a long look.

"We're just trying to help you," she insisted.

From the moment they met Barbara had admired how strong Lois' loyalty was. Her drive to protect Clark was amazing and that she could was just as remarkable. However, her stubbornness would not help this situation and judging from her pained expression she was regretting her movement.

"We don't need your help," Lois said icily as she clutched her ribs.

"Actually, you do." She also found her stubbornness could be annoying. Lois scoffed again.

"Spying is help? Lying is help?" Lois bit out.

"It's not like you haven't done your fair share of both," Barbara countered.

Her glare returned, but right then Barbara didn't care. Lois knew she had a point even if she refused to admit it.

"And it's not like it's the method I wanted," Barbara said more gently.

"Whatever happened to talking to people?" Lois asked incredulous.

Barbara turned away ashamed. "Look I wanted to stop. But Bruce is right. We live in a graceless age, Lois. Talking could just as easily be lying. People should be judged by their actions more than just their words," she said a little miserably. Although Lois continued to glare, Barbara noticed her eyes had slightly softened and when she spoke it was with a more rounded edge than before.

"So what is all of this? Who are you supposed to be?" she asked gesturing around her.

"You're in the infirmary of Wayne Manor," Barbara said, then she smiled a little bit awkwardly. "I don't have an official code name anymore."

Lois raised her eyebrow. "Who _were_ you then?"

Barbara sighed. "Batgirl."

"You're Batgirl?" Lois asked disbelieving.

"Was," she corrected. "I stopped being her eight years ago."

"When did you start?"

"I was twelve."

Lois shook her head. "You were so young...I don't understand how someone could willingly work with someone like _him_."

"Bruce isn't that bad. In fact, he's a very good person, he's just been through a lot. After a while all that mattered to him was the mission."

"Is that why you left?"

Barbara's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You don't think I did my homework?" Lois asked with smirk.

Barbara chuckled. "I left for other reasons," she said evasively.

Lois raised her eyebrow expectantly. Sighing, she relented; she guessed that she owed Lois at least this much. She did know all of her boyfriend's secrets and had lied to her repeatedly.

"My Dad, my grand father, his Dad. All of them were cops. My Dad never wanted me to join law enforcement though. He thought it would ruin my life. But I guess that sense of justice is genetic or maybe it was teenage rebellion because I participated in a lot of police investigations. Unofficially, of course. When I finally got in trouble, my Dad put his foot down. But that didn't stop me. Helping the police was...it felt right. Even though technically I was breaking the law, I knew I was helping people. I wanted more than anything to do something for the city. To prove to myself that there was still good in the world. And Batman...He was so incredible. So I took on the mantle of Batgirl and eventually I joined up with him. He trained me. The first time I saved someone, it was like I found a part of myself that I didn't even know was there. Like I was valuable. Like I was a part of something bigger."

Barbara could still remember the early days clearly. When no matter what darkness she faced, she could handle it and fight it back. She smiled a little sadly as all the memories came flooding back.

"What happened?" Lois asked gently breaking into Barbara's thoughts.

Barbara smiled a little sadly. "I grew up. After a while I realized that no matter what I did, the city would always need saving. Being Batgirl was starting to take over my day life. I wasn't sure who Barbara Gordon was anymore. Maybe it's selfish, but I wanted a normal life. So I left. Went to college and grad school, volunteered in different organizations helping the poor and educating people."

"Did you miss it?"

"I wasn't Batgirl anymore, but no matter where I went I always felt the itch to protect people. I just didn't wear a costume."

Lois knit her eyebrows together. "If Batgirl is retired, then why are you doing this?"

"For a long time I had lost faith in something greater. I no longer believed that the world would ever improve or be truly saved. Then Superman came along...Clark gave me something I hadn't felt in a long time: hope. I wanted to know whether that moment of optimism was in vain. I wanted to know who he was underneath the red and blue to make it...real. So when Bruce approached me, I agreed to help him."

"That big thing he's planning."

She nodded.

"I _am_ sorry. What we did was necessary, but it was also wrong."

Lois didn't answer, but at least she didn't look angry anymore.

"I am grateful though for what it allowed me to do."

"What's that?" she asked.

"I got to know you guys." Lois looked surprised. "Really. I wasn't just protecting you because it was my job. Clark is a genuinely good person who was raised by an amazing woman with a God's honest talent in the kitchen and a bigger heart than I've ever experienced. And you, well you're Lois Lane. You're a badass with a pen, but are honest and strong in ways that I respect. You all gave me hope. I went there on a mission; I didn't expect to actually care about any of you."

Lois looked touched; her eyes were overly bright and Barbara had to look away for fear that she would start to cry.

"I guess I can't really condemn your curiosity," she said softly and Barbara felt relieved for the forgiveness. "I just have one question."

Barbara looked up expectantly, but without anxiety as Lois' eyes held amusement.

"You're not a writer, are you?"

Barbara laughed a little bit. Honestly, she had forgotten about that. "No. I just thought it would be a good way for us to bond."

They sat in companionable silence, until she heard a buzzing in her ear. "Excuse me."

She turned away from Lois slightly and touched her left ear. "I'm here."

Kassandra's voice poured out of the device.

"We need you in the Batcave."

"Acknowledged." She turned to Lois. "You should rest."

"What are you doing?" she asked as she leaned back onto her pillow.

Barbara put on her mask. As she did she felt a thrill of excitement pass through her.

"My job."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23 **

Somehow Clark was not expecting _this_ as Batman's lair.

Like the city above, the stalactites glittered like diamonds from the light of the computers against the blackness of the cave. The boundary between rock and technology was nonexistent. It looked as though the high-tech computers, vehicles, and other things that Clark couldn't identify seemed to have grown from the foundations of the earth in this place.

Perhaps a cave was a little too on the nose for someone named _Bat_man and the man in question didn't seem like one who would make puns, so he had expected something less obvious coming from the Dark Knight. Regardless of his surprise it looked really cool and it _was_ appropriate. Besides, who was Clark to judge? He was an alien and his hideout, for a while, was a spaceship. For someone who worked through mystery and darkness, whose whole person was generally misunderstood and partly feared, a bat cave was indeed fitting for the enigmatic Bruce Wayne/Batman, just like the scout ship had been for Clark.

"Welcome to the Batcave."

He turned to find Bruce with his cowl down, the dark and commanding veneer in place. The posture screamed a level of security that Clark had felt in the scout ship. The darkness suited him. Kassandra was in her uniform as well although it was different from the one he remembered. Granted he had been barely conscious then, but , but without her mask. She smiled at him. Although he returned it, it was still odd to see her dressed like that. But the sight was made even odder by the figure of an older gentleman walking with him.

He wore a crisp suit. His graying hair was slicked back and he stood with grace and dignity with Bruce. This was more than an employer-employee relationship.

"Where is Lois?"

The elderly gentlemen spoke in a smooth British accent. "Miss Lane is in the infirmary in the mansion. Miss Barbara is checking on her as we speak."

It hadn't occurred to Clark that the Batcave was probably connected to Wayne manor and he wondered where the entrance to this place from the inside. Using his x-ray vision he scanned through the rock only to be stopped at the base of the house. He looked disbelieving at Bruce, but the man on the receiving end seemed unperturbed.

Perhaps sensing the awkwardness between him and his master, the older gentlemen spoke again. "I have set her bones and I can assure you she will be fine, Master Kent."

Although Clark was disquieted by hearing his name, he expressed his gratitude.

"You are welcome sir. If you need anything please let me know," he said with a slight bow.

"What is your name?" he asked as he stuck out his hand toward the elderly man.

"Alfred Pennyworth," he clasped his hand with a surprisingly strong grip, "and it is a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Clark shared the sentiment and the man bowed again and left. After his departure, Clark felt free to shoot a glower towards Bruce. "Does everyone know my identity?"

"That information has never left this room."

Clark grimaced. Although moved by his unwarranted loyalty, Clark felt a little annoyed, but ignored the feeling reminding himself that Bruce had kept his secret and helped Lois. Clark's feelings toward Bruce were definitely lightening although judging from the other man's expression the experience wasn't mutual.

"Why didn't you listen to me? You nearly got yourself killed," Bruce said angrily.

"If I had listened that girl would have died. Where were you?" Clark replied also angry.

Kassandra and Bruce shared a look. "We were delayed," he replied vaguely.

Clark raised his eyebrows expectantly and Bruce grimaced. "Let's just say that Metallo wasn't the only villain in Metropolis tonight."

Clark was taken aback. Who else had been there? Wait, how did Bruce know his name?

"Do you know who that man was?"

Bruce looked at him for a few seconds. "That man was John Corben and he is no friend of meta-humans. He believes that all meta-humans are a direct threat to American security."

The name sparked something. Clark remembered reading a blog written by him while doing research for the Meta-Human Registration Act. Every post was disturbing to say the least, vehemently and venomously blaming him for the military and civilian losses. He was a former marine who during the invasion, became paralyzed from a spinal injury. Thus becoming an even bigger hater of super-powered people and a major proponent of the Meta-Human Registration Act.

"I remember him," Clark said softly and sadly. Bruce gave him a confused look. "I read his blog while researching the Meta-Human Registration Act," he explained. They stared at each other and if Clark didn't know any better, he would have called Bruce's expression sympathetic. Clark cleared his throat awkwardly.

"What led him to become Metallo?"

His injuries explained his hatred for Superman, but it didn't explain the meteor rock heart, incredible strength, and that he had walked.

Bruce's face showed his normal stoicism as he answered:

"After leaving a rally he was hit by a car. Because of his stature the brunt of the damage was to his chest. Although officially he was treated at Metropolis General, really he was taken to Cadmus Labs where they were able to revive him, but at great cost."

"What did they do to him?" Clark asked with wide eyes.

"They gave him a cybernetic body fueled by meteor rock."

Clark sighed. "It would've been nice to know I had such a dangerous enemy in the works."

"You should've known. You're not vigilant," he said critically, but not meanly.

"Fair enough. Though frankly it's hard to keep track of those who simply hate me and those who would act upon that hatred. A heads-up would have been nice."

Clark knew that he still doubted him. He sighed out of exhaustion and frustration. What was he supposed to do to convince him that he was trustworthy? How many times would he have to prove himself to this man? The question in his mind grew louder and louder until he could take it no longer. The question he had wanted answered since the beginning of the subterfuge burst out of him.

"What can I do to convince you that I'm worthy of whatever you're planning? Worthy of your trust. Why didn't you just talk to me to start with?"

Bruce didn't even flinch. When he spoke it lacked the harshness that existed during their last encounter, but held all of its honesty. "My one rule of crime fighting is never kill. You were just a murderer to me. For a long time I saw you as someone who was trying to avoid the hard questions the world was asking him by doing good deeds."

"You think I save people as an act of penance? I've saved people my whole life," Clark said earnestly.

"So you deserve clemency?"

Clark sighed. "That's not what I meant."

They stared at each other for a few moments, until Clark broke the silence.

"You don't trust me very much. Fine. But you aren't trying very hard. And it's apparent you don't want others trusting you either. Otherwise, why would you think the only way you can gain allies is through unscrupulous means?"

He hadn't used an accusatory tone, but Clark noticed Bruce's jaw harden. Clark realized he may have hit a nerve.

"I didn't blackmail Barbara. She and I have a...complicated past, but I trust her," he said resolutely.

"But you did with Kassandra," Clark countered gesturing to Kassandra who stood there a little uncomfortably.

Bruce looked away for a moment.

"That was different; I thought it would be for the best. Having friends is dangerous. Trusting just anyone is risky."

Clark was silent. He could understand hesitating to trust people. It was an issue he faced everyday. Trusting required a vulnerability of the heart that often led to it being broken. Were it any other person Clark would go into a long speech about how trust was worth every risk. But he knew enough about Bruce and his past to know that his words would mean nothing to him. Bruce had lost too much to truly let a stranger in easily.

"Do you trust me at all?"

Bruce smiled just a bit and looked at Kassandra. "You had strong advocates. But I have yet to make a decision."

Clark nodded. Trust was worth the risk, but he was also hesitant to make that leap with Bruce just yet. Not completely. Everything that had happened early that night lead him to believe that Bruce was one of the good guys, but whether they could work together or at least exist around each other was still in question.

And something still didn't make sense.

"There's something I don't understand. Why did you try so hard to protect me? Watching my mom, Kassandra removing the bullet from me. I thought you saw me as just a murderer."

"Like I said you had strong advocates and you're an asset in battle," he said sincerely. "Also I wouldn't wish the loss of a loved one on anyone."

A deep sadness emanated from him and Clark couldn't speak while they stared at each other until Bruce looked away. Clark cleared his throat.

"So what do we do now?" Clark asked.

He seemed thoughtful, like he was looking for just the right words. "Consider me your parole officer."

Clark smiled a bit. At least that was a step in the right direction.

"Now we have work to do."

Bruce turned away from them. Pressing his hand against the wall, a thin glowing outline emerged, pressed the stone into the rock face and slid over to reveal a safe. He unlocked the safe by a retina scan and turned to face them again now with a small black box in his hand. Curious, Clark attempted to look inside, but to no avail.

Then Bruce opened it in front of him to show a very small jagged piece of green rock that glowed eerily. It was no bigger than a thumb-tack, but Clark gasped out of instinct only to have a slight wave of nausea pass over him. He breathed deeply after Bruce had closed the box.

"Do you know what this is?" Bruce asked.

Clark nodded gravely. Wordlessly Bruce replaced the small box in the safe. Turning to the console he pressed a few buttons to display screen a globe of the Earth with different places highlighted as he continued to speak.

"3 months ago a meteor shower occurred and the debris fell into the Indian Ocean. Two more followed in quick succession: one in the Sahara Desert, and another in the Utah Canyon-lands. These occurred less than a month ago." He pointed to the marked locations on the screen.

"I know. General Swanwick had me inspect the meteors at Utah Canyon-lands."

"Do you also know that Lex Luthor is involved?" Bruce asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Clark said soberly.

Bruce nodded. "Ever since LexCorp generously helped with the clean up and reconstruction in Metropolis I've been tracking Lex's activities. Very shortly after the meteor showers LexCorp projects started popping up in the affected areas. I've watched him operate and he has gathered the materials at these sites. Luthor first looked in the Indian ocean claiming it as an oil exploration."

"Luthor had a team comb the ocean floor looking for these meteorites. However he wasn't able to salvage that much as the ocean is too deep and these meteorites are immune to normal detection. Also the larger pieces were too dense to lift, impenetrable from human force he was only able to retrieve the smaller pieces that had broken off while entering the Earth's atmosphere. So his next and only option was the Sahara. In the desert there is no shade. People started to notice his activity. He paid off a lot of people, but not everyone can be bought, so he threatened to poison their water supply. Recently he asked me for help to excavate the Canyon-lands and I'm sure you already know the details."

Clark raised an eyebrow unabashedly, but also impressed. Bruce must have assumed when he saw him at the gala that he had eavesdropped on his and Luthor's conversation.

"Regardless of his issues with the Canyon-lands, due to his efforts he has been able to collect a large store of the substance. My son was able to collect a few samples from Utah."

"Dick Grayson."

Bruce turned to him in astonishment.

"You don't think I did my homework?" he asked with a cocky smile. Bruce gave him an appraising look, then smirked. "How did he do it without getting caught?"

He shrugged. "He was a tourist who got a little lost."

Clark and Kassandra chuckled; he couldn't deny Bruce's moxie.

"Anyway," he said staring at both of them sternly, "we analyzed the meteor rocks."

"Do you know why those rocks can hurt me?"

"Yes. Kassandra please," Bruce said.

For a moment Clark was afraid that she would bring it out and steeled himself for the pain to come, but thankfully, she brought up photos on the screen of the Batcomputer.

"Barbara ran a diagnostic test and its chemical signature is similar to the metal of the Black Zero," Kassandra said.

Realization dawned on Clark. "That means-"

"It came from Krypton," Bruce finished for him. "But there's more. This mineral-Kryptonite-gives off a powerful radiation. As of yet, it appears harmless to humans, but..." he trailed off.

Bruce didn't need to finish for Clark to understand. Clark had experienced the radiation now several times. Several times too many and he understood that it could hurt him, perhaps even kill him. This Kryptonite could be used against him by his enemies. Then all the pieces fell into place at once.

"Luthor was the one who organized the attacks on me."

Batman simply nodded.

"How could he know that it would hurt me?"

"He probably surmised that it would. That attack on you was probably a test. The question is why. I know you broke some of his stuff, but if it were that simple I imagine he would just sue you or demand you rebuild it."

Clark felt some trepidation in sharing this information with Bruce, but they were already in this far and they had decided to trust each other. He should know. "Luthor offered me a business proposition. He wants to dominate the world using a meta-human army. I was meant to be his first recruit."

Bruce seemed almost bemused. "Lex covets power more than anything, but he doesn't see it that way. He believes that he is some kind of savior. He wants to show people he does things in their favor. There's a lot of tension in humanity which resides in their uneasiness that thousands of people can kill with a thought or have the destructive power of a missile. He will manipulate their prejudices and fear to bring him to power, while disenfranchising anyone powerful enough to stop him. I bet you my fortune that he thought that if you were behind it, his legislation would be more credible and it would prevent your interference. When you refused, he stopped playing nice. Frankly I'm surprised he didn't just kill you what with you upsetting his holy quest."

"Maybe he intends to. Eventually. Knowing Luthor he'll want to end me spectacularly or use this to manipulate me."

_A gift from a mutual friend. He paid a pretty price. _Clark's jaw hardened.

"Metallo."

Apparently Bruce shared this brain wave. "I'm sure Lex wouldn't have minded if Metallo had killed you."

Clark sighed. Ever since childhood, he had sensed his life would be overly complicated and rife with danger. However, he had not foreseen how labyrinthine and perilous it would truly become. First Zod, then the military, even Bruce, now Luthor. His allies and foes were indiscriminate and changing.

"And now he's a senator. What's going to stop him from getting his legislation passed? From creating his army? All he wants is power. We both know that, but Luthor will see to it that no one else on Earth does. Instead he'll try to convince humanity that he's trying to protect them," Clark said a little disheartened and angry.

Bruce wasn't looking at him. Instead he was staring at the Batcomputer lost in thought. "I have to admit he has a point. There are much greater threats now to humanity. A large group of powerful people working together to protect the world. That doesn't sound like a bad idea."

The big plans he had.

"What are you talking about?"

Bruce visibly hesitated before he answered. He turned to Kassandra who glared at him a little.

"We need to show the people of Earth that there are powerful individuals on their side, that would defend against those who would use their abilities to destroy and conquer. And that we want to work with them not rule over them."

Intrigued, Clark asked, "What did you have in mind?"

"A formal alliance that we can display to the world. Cooperation between meta-humans and humans in the pursuit of justice and protection of the Earth. A beacon of hope. A light in the dark. I was thinking of calling it: the Justice League."

Something pinged at the back of his mind. _We wanted you to know what it meant to be human first. Then when the time was right you could be the bridge between two Peoples._ Clark had an overwhelming feeling of something sliding into place. He could still fulfill the purpose his mother and father set out for him. Perhaps he could unite the people of earth and protect them as well. Still Clark was unsure. What would stop them from succumbing to corruption? How would they show they were different from what Luthor planned?

"I will help you with Lex, but I don't think I should join this Justice League."

This was _his_ destiny, _his_ job to join the Peoples. If he allied himself with an organization he would risk tarnishing everything he stood for by the conjoined beliefs and eventual politics of such a group. In truth, the idea sounded amazing. Being surrounded by others like him would make him feel...normal. The whole point, however, was for Superman to be separate and impartial. He wasn't sure he could do that tied to such a diverse group of people.

"I'm sorry." And he meant it, but Bruce seemed unoffended as he just waved a hand.

"I understand. Take whatever time you need to think about it," Bruce said knowingly.

Clark nodded in both appreciation and understanding. Kassandra on the other hand looked disappointed. He felt bad, but he believed he was making the right choice. That didn't mean he wouldn't think about it, though. It was just the situation they were in was much more important.

"We should look into land acquisitions, ground breakings all within the last few months. If lead is encasing the radiation this Kryptonite emits I won't be able to find it with my eyes," Clark said.

"Not a problem."

Clark turned to see Barbara stepping out of an elevator that was embedded in the wall. Taken aback by her black attire, he openly stared, but Barbara barely made eye contact with him as she strolled to the Batcomputer, sat in the chair, and pressed a few buttons. When she spoke it was in a business-like manner.

"Over the past few months, LexCorp facilities have popped up all over the country and in some other parts of the world all of which are on the surface legitimate business."

Clark read down the list: an auto manufacturing factory in Detroit, a solar company in the Mexican desert, a biofuel manufacturing plant in Ohio, a research lab in Metropolis. There were about ten locations. Lex Luthor was a cautious man.

"According to the intel we've gathered," Barbara continued, "these facilities are covers for Kryptonite storage. For the past couple of months, Solaris," she pointed to Kassandra, "has destroyed his supply."

"You _did_ destroy that Kryptonite?" he asked looking at Kassandra in wonder. For the first time it occurred to him that he never asked what exactly she could do. After they had aided him in defeating Metallo he had meant to, but he hadn't he chance to ask what had happened to the Kryptonite heart. He knew that she could teleport people and things, but he didn't understand how. And he couldn't fathom how that translated into being capable of destroying Kryptonite.

"With a concentrated blast of solar radiation, the Kryptonite is rendered inert," Kassandra said with an audacious look. "And theoretically, I could send them into the Sun, but I haven't tried."

Clark's eyes widened. "Amazing."

Barbara piped up from the console. "As far as we know there is one facility left in the Mexican desert."

"We don't know. This place is our best bet to figure all of this out and where we can find Lex's last stores of Kryptonite," Kassandra said.

"Then we have no time to lose," Clark said gravely. He turned to leave when he felt Kassandra's hand on his arm.

"This one appears to be more secure. Now that he knows you and Batman are working together, it would be best if we went," she said gesturing to her and Barbara. "Plus, you know there will be a lot of Kryptonite."

"Kassandra is right," Bruce said. "We need to handle this carefully. You're not one for subtlety and we need to be smart about this. Barbara and Kassandra will carry out this mission."

Clark sighed. "So what's the plan?"


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

He shifted in his chair slightly as he stared at Lois' serene face. It was kind of Bruce to lend him some clothes although they didn't fit exactly right. Regardless the idea of Superman walking around in Bruce Wayne's mansion was not a good idea, so he gratefully accepted them. Bruce Wayne was too much of a celebrity to not expect impromptu visitors from time-to-time. And usually those visitors held cameras. No wonder Bruce's hideout was a cave. Which was where Bruce still was. Vaguely Clark wondered if Batman slept during the day like his moniker suggested.

At 4:30 in the morning he should have been sleeping too, but he couldn't. The sound of Lois' breathing was a balm to his soul and overtaxed mind. So much had happened. Luthor was a tangible threat to him now. Suddenly he had a super-powered enemy again. Although Batman had powered him down, his instincts told him that that wasn't the last time he would see Metallo. He and Batman were working together. Sort of.

He rolled his eyes. Even after laying out the logical arguments that he shouldn't go near any of those facilities he was still annoyed.

With everything out in the open with Kassandra and Barbara, he had had more time to think. He had decided he definitely wasn't mad at Kassandra. Not having much choice in matter, he could forgive her role and he liked her. The situation with Barbara was more complicated. Whether he would admit it or not, he cared for her like a brother would care for a sister, but what she did was beyond Kassandra's transgression.

Although they were quiet, he heard footsteps before they reached the door. The person's heart was racing.

"Lois is recovering well," said a voice behind him. He knew who it was. He didn't care, but he had a pathological problem where he couldn't ignore people.

"Mr. Pennyworth seems to know what he's doing," he said without looking at her.

"He's a medic."

In spite of his conversation partner, he turned slightly and raised an interested eyebrow.

"And he's had a lot of practice," she joked, but Clark didn't take the bait. His face remained stubbornly cold before he turned away from her again. Instead he focused on Lois, taking her hand and willing the intruder to leave. But she didn't.

"Would you like some coffee?"

"Why?" he asked growing more irritated by her impertinent question.

"We need to talk and since our conversation will probably devolve into yelling I think it would be best if we left the room. I don't want to wake Lois."

He couldn't deny her reasoning, so he nodded slightly, kissed Lois' forehead and followed her out.

Were it any other time he would appreciate the beauty of Wayne Manor. It was all dark thick wood emanating a sense of strength and warmth from within. A family had lived here. However briefly.

As they walked into the kitchen, Clark was taken aback by the size of the room. It was modern looking, but still held the older charm of the rest of the house. Barbara made a beeline to the coffee machine, pressed a couple of buttons. The coffee maker sprung to life. Leaning back against the counter, Clark tried to ignore the silence and her by focusing on the machine heating up then filtering the liquid then pouring the hot liquid into the pitcher.

"You're mad at me," she said matter-of-factly. Man she just wouldn't let him ignore her.

Clark shot her a look that clearly said 'Are you surprised?' and she sighed.

"I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry?" So angered he was by her statement that he had to stand straight. "You lied to me about everything. About your name, about the blackmail, about you spying on me in the first place!"

"I understand that you're mad; I'm mad at me too," she said defensively.

He knew that and begrudgingly he wanted to understand, even to sympathize, but he just couldn't get past this one thing.

"Lois told me about your conversation."

"Then why are you so angry?"

Lois had told him everything they had spoken about: her past (her __real __past), her motives, her qualms with her mission, her feelings about his family. His heart told him to care, but he just didn't want to for a very good reason.

"Because I believed you even after your lies. You toyed with my emotions and you used me. I gave you a second chance and you just threw it in my face."

To her credit she looked ashamed and could barely look at him. When she spoke her voice was breaking. "That is completely true. What I did was wrong and despicable. And I deserve your anger."

But when she finally made eye contact with him, he was surprised to see anger there too. "But you know what? At the same time, you have a lot of nerve judging me for having multiple identities."

"What?" he asked incredulous.

"How many names did you go through during your wandering days? How many people did you trick into believing whatever back story necessary for your own purposes?" she practically yelled with tears at the corners of her eyes.

Clark went to speak, but she cut him off.

"Don't tell me you were just hiding! You lied your way all the way up Ellesmere because you heard about the scoutship. You lied to learn the truth."

Surprised and begrudgingly impressed, Clark was momentarily stunned by the sheer amount of knowledge she had about him. But he quickly regained his composure and his incredulity by her audacious claims.

"I did what I had to."

"As did I."

The nerve of her! Clark glared, but in the back of his mind he knew she was right.

"You should know I didn't want to lie to you; I had to. I didn't do what I did to hurt you. I believe in what Bruce is planning. I did it because Bruce is right."

"'Talk is just noise,'" he said a little bitterly.

"Yes, so I lied to learn the truth."

She had a point. He was probably one of the most dishonest people in the world. He had to be, but regardless of her intentions and her correct assertions, he was still hurt and remained angry.

"Why change your name then? Why the blackmail story? After we found you out, why didn't you just stop? You seemed pretty convinced of me by then."

She shook her head a little and put up a defensive gesture. "That wasn't my decision. He wanted me to use that identity and he said you had to figure out everything by yourself."

"I don't understand."

"Bruce is meticulous when profiling people. He wanted to know how you would respond if someone who had wronged you actually needed your help." She grimaced. "Also he was worried you were...stupid."

"That's dangerous game."

"Not with you," she said with teary eyes.

Clark sighed. He could feel his anger slip away. "So the blackmail story..."

"Was to make you dig deeper," she finished for him.

"I didn't discover your identity; that was Lois."

Barbara smiled a little. "Nobody's an island, Clark. Besides you brilliantly figured out Bruce's identity."

He blushed a little; he was proud of himself for doing that.

He gave her a long appraising look. "You know I never asked. How did you..."

"Very few objects fly as fast as you and all of those things are closely tracked," she deadpanned.

Clark's eyes grew wide with fear. If she had found him that easily than what about the government? What about his enemies? Reading his mind Barbara smiled reassuringly.

"It's okay. I fixed that problem."

For a moment he wondered how and then he remembered her computer skills. Why would she do that for him? Why would she protect him? He looked up at her with gentle eyes.

"You need to know that I never meant to hurt you and I hated every moment that I lied to you, but I loved every moment I got to spend with you and your family. I am so sorry," she said with eyes and a voice like she meant it.

"So what do we do now?"

"What do you want to do?" Barbara asked hesitantly.

"Is there anything else you would like to tell me?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment. Genuinely he wondered what she would say now that everything was completely out. "Bruce really isn't that bad. You just have to get to know him."

Clark looked away. All this time, all the lies, all the diversions, truly he didn't know Bruce. Or Barbara even. Maybe he knew Kassandra. Maybe this was a chance for them to actually become acquainted.

"I want you to promise me that you will never do that to me or to my family again," he said firmly.

"I swear," she replied with conviction.

Clark smiled genuinely. With a relieved sigh, Barbara poured him some coffee and retrieved the sugar and cream. Both with cup in hand they stood in companionable and comfortable silence.

Maybe they could start over.

"By the way," he said after taking a sip,"good luck and come back in one piece."

She chuckled. "Thanks."


	25. Chapter 25

****Chapter 25****

It had been a while since her last field work. She was by no means rusty, and was accustomed to enemies stronger than she. She revelled in the challenge and in the chance to help her friend in this important mission to destroy Kryptonite. So why was she so nervous?

Maybe it was because this was the last store of the sickly green stuff and she was anxious to be rid of it. Or maybe it was because the security at this facility was so high. After each raid the subsequent facility's security had been tighter. Therefore the level of security at the current location was unsurprising. Judging from the extreme security it was safe to assume that Luthor was not giving up this store without a fight, which merely cemented the fact that this was the last of it. Still Barbara found herself in awe by how thorough the fortitude of the building was. So much so that the entire place almost screamed of paranoia if it had been sanctioned by anyone other than Lex Luthor. It reminded Barbara more of a prison than a place of business. Illicit business sure, but even those looked legit on the outside. The entire grounds were covered with guards who were armed with rifles. The fence was electrified and barbed. There were towers at each corner with other guards armed with both rifles and giant spotlights. Cameras were littered everywhere. If she had been alone, getting inside would have been tricky justifying some nerves. But a meta-human with the ability to control light and thus go unseen was with wasn't the reason.

Maybe it was that Bruce was worried. He would've gone himself if he hadn't a business meeting with Luthor. Initially he had considered cancelling, he had already turned him down once, but Barbara convinced him that this coöperation between companies would allow for a closer view of Luthor and cancelling suddenly might lead Luthor to rescind the offer. Reluctantly he had agreed and assigned Barbara to join Kassandra. Bruce had still remained uneasy and if Batman felt unsure about something...

It didn't matter. They had to complete this mission. Regardless of the inherent challenge of the entire place, Kassandra was able to 'fly' them both onto the roof. Camouflaged by Kassandra's light refracting abilities, it was eerie watching all the guards. There was a particular jolt of fear and strangeness when one of them looked directly at them. They reached the roof without incident. Each of them had the schematics of the building downloaded on their wrist screens and knew the most likely holding area for the Kryptonite. As usual she would be the eyes and ears for Kassandra as she laid waste to the Kryptonite store, so her destination was in the control room. Barbara positioned herself to shimmy into the air duct, but briefly turned back to Kassandra.

"Good luck," Barbara said. "Come back kickin'."

"You too," she said as a glow formed around her causing her to appear transparent and she slipped into the concrete to the building below.

Barbara sighed and climbed into the cramped, dusty smelling space. One thing about deserts is that sand gets everywhere, so there were filters blocking her path. She only felt a little bad about dismantling them. After a while the air inside would get pretty dusty, but it didn't matter. It wasn't as though there would be a purpose for this place in a little while. Still it would be far easier if she could just glide through the ceiling like Kassandra. Keeping an eye on the device displaying the schematics of the building on her wrist, she followed the labrynthian tunnels until she was just over the security room. There were two guards sitting a few feet in front of the slotted panel. Lucky for her they were engrossed in whatever they were watching on one of the computers that were part of the system. Meanwhile the footage of the outside reeled above them. Barbara frowned in disapproval. For such a show of security outside, the defenses on the inside were greatly lacking.

Carefully and quietly she removed the grate above them, grateful for the volume of the program they were watching. It sounded like an episode of Friends. Finally when she had all the screws removed, deftly she lifted the grate from its place and set it soundless on the panel beyond the hole where it once sat. She brought her knees to her chest and stretched her legs horizontally in front of her. Trying hard not to grunt from the strain, she very slowly dropped her legs down through the hole, brought her body forward and gracefully landed a few feet behind them. Silently she walked behind the two guards who were guffawing at some joke.

Simultaneously she whacked both guards with her black escrima sticks. She carefully guided one of the guards off of the chair and onto the floor. That was a little too easy. In fact so far everything had been too simple and had gone too smoothly. But she couldn't dwell on that, she had work to do. She removed her wrist device and connected it to the security system. It displayed her and Kassandra as blinking green dots. Then she clicked away on the keyboard until she found the hallway outside of the storage area. The storage area itself held no cameras. Luthor never trusted that an employee wouldn't betray him, so he had instead placed cameras only outside of the room along with armed guards. Barbara were the eyes in the sky for Kassandra. Even though Kassandra could disappear, she couldn't do her job if she suddenly had company. As long as those guards stayed inside, Kassandra would be fine to complete her mission.

However important this aspect of her purpose was, she had another that was equal in significance. Barbara plugged in her USB into one of the computers. If she was going to be here, she would take a peek at Lex's files. Every computer owned by Lex Luthor was connected to the Lexcorp server. Although on the surface everything seemed legitimate for a corporation as public as Lexcorp, it only took a few clicks to see that he had encrypted certain files. She smirked. Those were the ones she was pursuing. She stole a quick glance at the security screens showing the hallway and Kassandra's position. The little green dot stayed solitary and the hallway remained empty.

Three flimsy-for-her firewalls later and after unlocking the encryption, she was inside the secret world of Lexcorp's underhanded dealings and projects. In horror she read the details of his plans behind the Meta-Human Registration Act and the truth behind each event leading up to this point. Without hesitation she began the download of the information, when she heard a beeping in her ear.

She pressed her comm device and Kassandra voice came pouring out.

"There's nothing here."

"What?" Barbara practically yelled.

"There's nothing here," she repeated. "The crates are full of cinder blocks."

__Cinder blocks? But why-__

"It's a trap. Get out, Solaris. Now!" she shouted urgently.

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine. There's a package for pick up! Now go and if I don't make it, tell them what happened!"

"Barb-"

She tapped the comm device to deactivate it.

It was a set up. The little green Kassandra dot was being swarmed by angry red dots on the outside of the room and the hallway cameras showed a similar, but more threatening picture of a throng of guards sprinting down toward the door. Judging from her little dot and the footage from her hallway, the scene was the same outside her door.

With fluid speed, Barbara unplugged the USB and other equipment and stashed it away from sight in the air duct. If she was captured, this data was too important to risk it on her person. The monitor showed two beefy guards running to the security room. If she tried to escape through the vent she would be trapped and have no way to defend herself, so she hid herself behind the door and waited for them to enter. They burst open the door. Both looked around slowly, avoiding the incapacitated guards, their guns at the ready.

"Where is she?" one of them said.

"Here," she said from behind them.

One of them turned around and she kicked him straight in the face. His partner turned his gun on her and she twisted his wrist causing him to drop his gun. Then he went for a right hook. She ducked and swept his legs. Satisfied they were both down, she started running down the hallway. Three more guards were coming on either side.

"Hey!" one of them shouted, while they all trained their guns on her. Without hesitation, she threw down her smoke pellets. Quickly she ducked under cover of the smoke and hit each of them with pressure point attacks causing them to fall down temporarily paralyzed. With a smirk to herself she started running again toward a door. Any door. While looking back to make sure they were still down, when she slammed into a wall and fell on the floor. Slightly dazed she looked up and saw it hadn't been a wall, but a massive man.

Standing at 7 feet tall at least, the man was broad and muscular. His legs were like tree trunks and his arms were like hams. Mouth agape, Barbara told her legs to move and she managed to stagger backwards.

"Where do you think you're going little girl?" he rumbled in a voice as loud as thunder.

"Away from you."

She slid between his legs and combat rolled upright, running as fast as she could in the other direction. Thankfully, she was faster and more nimble than the giant, which allowed her to gain some distance. But another problem appeared. Each door and hallway end apparently had an emergency lockdown protocol. She was just able to slide underneath the grate. One bright spot was that she now had a barrier between her and the giant. But her brief optimism ended when she saw guards running toward her and she skidded to a halt. Each end of the hallway sealed shut. Momentarily she was trapped and outnumbered.

She sighed, annoyed.

Low on options, she looked up for any escape and seeing a grate a little aways from her she shot her grapple hook at it. It connected! She pulled the grate open. The guards pointed their guns at her, but she flung batarangs at them and knocked the guns away. Then they came at her. One tried to hit her with a night stick, but she blocked him and kicked him away. Another came at her with a knife, but she spun away while grabbing his arm and flipping him into an oncoming guard. They both fell to the floor. The last few were more hesitant to attack her. Another also armed with a knife thrust at her which she caught and forced it out of his hand by twisting his wrist. Then kicked him down into a kneeling position. She jumped off the wall, climbed around the other guard's neck and flipped him over. The last one decided to be brave and came at her with a lot of yelling, brandishing his night stick. He swung and she blocked his attack then struck his face with her open palm of one hand and chopped at his neck with the other causing him to fall out cold. She turned around and started toward the air duct, but stopped when she heard a screeching, ripping noise from down the hall. The metal barrier seemed to be collapsing on itself.

__The giant. __

Her heart beat faster and with a running start she pushed off the wall and pulled herself into the open air duct. If she could just get to the roof she would make it out okay. The terrible metallic cacophony was her soundtrack as she crawled as fast as she could until suddenly it stopped. She heard a thud and the unmistakable sound of metal scrapping linoleum. Then dead silence. Barbara quickened her pace, she was panting heavily.

There were thunderous steps from below.

"Where are you?!" he bellowed. "You can't hide little girl! When I find you, I will crush you just like I did your friend," he growled.

She gasped. _Kassandra. _

There were more booming footsteps until they stopped just underneath her.

Covering her mouth, she didn't breathe. She didn't dare move.

Suddenly she was ripped out of the duct and he slammed her down to the floor. Then he threw against the wall and she saw black dots explode in front of her eyes. Dizzy, she tried to strike at him, but he swatted away her puny arms and caught her head and shoved her back, pinning her against the wall again. He threw her down the hall like a rag doll. His boisterous laughter followed her.

Slowly and off-balanced she rose.

"I am so glad there were two of you. More fun for me!" His mocking laughter filled her head and her heart with rage. No one hurts her friends.

He went to grab her with his massive arms, but she slid between his tree-trunk legs hitting his genitals with her escrima as she went. Rarely did she strike such a blow, but he had made things personal. Howling in pain, he collapsed to his knees. Taking advantage of the opportunity she climbed onto his back and sprayed anesthetic gas in his face jumping and landing away from him as he teetered on his knees then finally fell.

Staring at him, panting, she realized that she had to find Kassandra. What had he done to her?

Then someone clutched Barbara's shoulder, she went to strike, but was easily stopped by an unusually strong hand of a dark-haired woman with malicious black eyes.

"Mercy."

She looked at her cooly, then sent a stream of electricity shot through her. She wanted to scream, but her voice was paralyzed. Everything was. The pain was incredible. There was cold fire in her veins that burned into her muscles and bones until she slipped into blackness.

* * *

><p>Click! Clack!<p>

Clark was annoyed. And worried and angry and just agitated. And his poor computer was receiving the brunt of his frustrations.

There was no reason he couldn't be involved. This was his fight after all. Bruce had made such a show of talking about being a team and working together and then he sends two other people to fight his battles. Logically, Kassandra could destroy Kryptonite; he understood that. But this was __his __fight! He should at least take part.

He growled as he pressed a little too hard on the 'f' key causing it to jam. Furious with himself, he pried it off.

"If you keep going like that, you'll have to buy a new one," Lois whispered from her desk.

While he was bothered immensely by his being benched, he took comfort from the fact that he could still help take down Lex Luthor one way or the other as Clark worked on an article about Luthor's facilities. Looking over at Lois, he frowned. Usually this was something they would do together, but Lois knew nothing of Bruce's plans about Luthor, much to her chagrin after she had asked him. He hadn't even told her about his connection to Metallo. Of course he regretted his decision to shield her from that information, but what had happened to her at the gala fundraiser, was too much for him. He knew it was his fear controlling him; she __was__ fine. When Perry had suggested that she take time off considering her injury and the trauma she had experienced, she had insisted on staying and writing her article on what had happened. This was normal Lois behavior, plus Mr. Pennyworth had done a superb job of binding her wounds. But he also knew that Lois tended to put on a brave face when she felt she needed to and he just couldn't risk her being injured worse, or worse...Clark shook his head. He had also been offered a few days off, but refused, with the thought to use work as a distraction. It had otherwise been proving a useful tool, but in that moment he had a headache and just couldn't write. He grimaced and decided he needed some coffee. He walked over to Lois.

"I'm getting some coffee; would you like cup?"

"No, thanks. I've got tea," she said raising her to go cup for emphasis. She took a sip and her nose wrinkled in mild disgust.

Clark raised his eyebrow at her. Lois liked sweetened iced tea, in fact she made the most delicious iced tea he had ever had, but couldn't drink the hot stuff and she never refused coffee as a rule. She once referred to coffee as her elixir of life. When she noticed his expression, she shrugged a little.

"Tea is better for you."

Clark nodded slowly, but didn't comment. Over the past month she had acted strangely. She was much more conscious of what she ate. Instead of a Philly cheese steak sandwich for lunch she would have a salad with grilled chicken strips on top. Instead of staying up well into the night before a deadline she went to bed early. He had brought it up to her once, but she evasively said she was trying to be healthier. Why, he had no idea. Other than her lack of proper sleep and her tendency to get herself into danger, she had seemed perfectly healthy before this change in behavior. Being more health conscious shouldn't be a concern, but it was odd and he gave into the urge to ask her.

"Lois, are you alright?"

She smiled at him. "Clark, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You've been acting very strange lately."

"Strange, how?"

"Well...you're eating differently. And have just been acting out of character. You just seem very...," what was the word he wanted? Happy? Wasn't happy a good thing? "different," he finished lamely.

She smiled warmly and touched his hand reassuringly."Clark, we've been over this. I'm fine. Nothing is wrong with me."

Smiling meekly and still confused, he nodded and left. He supposed she would tell him what was going on when she was ready. After Clark had retrieved his coffee and returned to his desk, he switched to the fluff piece Perry had assigned him, but just stared at his computer screen. He couldn't even remember what he was supposed to be writing about. It was a fluff piece about rabbits or kittens or something with trees. He wished caffeine worked on him.

Out of nowhere he heard an annoying pinging. That wasn't his ringtone and it was coming from his desk. After digging through his papers—he really needed to file those—he found the offensive object. It looked like a smart phone, but the more interesting aspect was that it indicated someone named BW was calling him.

__Bruce. __Kassandra must have planted this phone for when Bruce wanted to contact him. That made sense. Why would Clark Kent be getting calls from Bruce Wayne?

He looked around. No one was paying attention and Lois had left her seat presumably while he was rummaging through his desk. Quietly and quickly he walked out of the bullpen and into one of the empty conference rooms. Bruce calling him could mean news about the mission. Any news he was grateful to hear. After he was certain that no one was watching or listening, he answered.

"Bruce, what-"

"Barbara's been taken."


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Thank you again for the reviews!**

**Chapter** 26****

_Barbara has been taken. _Stunned, Clark barely heard Bruce speaking.

"Clark? _Clark. _You need to come to the Batcave immediately."

"Uh, yes. Give me a few seconds."

Numbly, he hung up the phone. Barbara was taken. She could be hurt. Or worse. If only he had been there...But no, that wasn' important. He had to leave. Snapping out of his thoughts, he walked speedily to Lois' desk and murmured urgently, "I have to go. There's an emergency."

"What wrong?" Lois asked with wide eyes as she placed a hand on his arm.

He hesitated. He didn't want to upset her, but he didn't want to lie either. In spite of what had happened, Barbara meant something to her he knew. She was searching his face worriedly.

"Bruce had a plan involving Luthor. Barbara was on the mission. She didn't come back," he whispered. As he spoke Lois' mouth dropped in shock, but then something replaced the upset look on her face with one of determination.

"I need to go with you," she said.

"No," he said shaking his head. "It's too dangerous. I don't want you to be a part of this."

"Clark, she's my friend too," she whispered fiercely. "And it's also dangerous for _you_."

"Please stay home. She would want you safe too," he insisted.

When she began to protest, he kissed her. It didn't matter that they were in the middle of the office, he kissed her with all the love, all the urgency, all the passion he had because if he was honest with himself he was scared too. And if he could make Lois believe everything would be fine, he would believe it too.

"Please," he pleaded. Barbara was in terrible danger; he didn't want someone else he cared about to be in danger as well.

She nodded with fearful eyes. "I'll stay home."

Clark tried to give her a heartening look then hurried as fast as he dared in the bullpen and up the stairs to the rooftop. Then flew off toward Gotham.

The world was a blur of color as he travelled with astonishing speed. Within a few seconds Clark was flying through the waterfall shielding one of the secret entrances to the Batcave, and unceremoniously, landed in front of the Batmobile. Bruce and Kassandra turned to him immediately. They were both in their costumes and they both looked grave.

"Clark, I'm glad you're here."

He wasn't.

"How could this have happened?" he asked sharply as he looked between the two of them.

"We were at another one of Luthor's facilities. We thought that was his last store of Kryptonite, but there was nothing there. Barbara told me to get out, but then so many guards came bursting through the door and threw these electricity weapons at me. I couldn't phase. I barely got out of there."

"How did they know how to stop you?" Clark asked slightly aghast.

"I don't know. All I know is that I didn't have Barbara's back," she said miserably.

"Kassandra." Clark gently took her by the shoulders. "It's okay. There's nothing you could have done. They knew how to stop you."

She nodded. "Maybe she's still there somewhere," he said gently.

Kassandra shook her head. "I went back there this morning. She wasn't there. In fact there's no evidence of us even being there. I tried to find her USB, but it was missing too."

"That's alright," Bruce said typing at the Batcomputer. "Before they captured her, she was able to remotely download information to the Batcomputer. I added some extra functions to it. I'm sure she only wanted you to take the device so that the enemy wouldn't know about her snooping."

Bruce took it from her and inserted it into the computer. A large loading bar appeared on the screen saying 80%.

"Whatever she was downloading, it didn't have a chance to finish..."

He clicked on a couple files. One labelled 'Metallo' detailing all of the upgrades provided for the mercenary. Another was information about Kryptonite: chemical composition, radiation levels, effects of radiation on various other objects including Kryptonian metal.

"This still doesn't tell us where she is," Clark said impatiently.

"Or where Luthor's real facility is," Kassandra said. "If they have the USB, can you track it?"

"Yes," Bruce said as he urgently pressed a few more buttons. The screen changed to a globe, but there was nothing to indicate Barbara's location.

Bruce slammed his fist on the console. "They must have destroyed it," he ground out.

"Haven't you been keeping track of Luthor's activities?" Clark asked hopeful.

Bruce shook his head obviously angry and frustrated and seemingly demoralized. "I have been. Somehow he circumvented me."

"How? No firewall he's put up has stood a chance against Barbara," Kassandra said nonplussed. "He couldn't hide anything on the LexCorp servor from her or from you."

"Sir?" Alfred's voice from the console made them all jump.

Bruce knitted his eyebrows together. "Yes, Alfred?"

"Miss Lane would like to speak with you, sir."

They all looked at each other in confusion and surprise. "Why?"

"She says that she can help," Alfred said matter-of-factly.

"Do you know about this?" Bruce asked turning to Clark.

Clark was just as taken aback as Bruce was. "No."

After seemingly thinking for a moment, Bruce said, "Patch her through Alfred."

"Yes, sir."

Seconds later her face appeared on screen. In the background was their book shelf, television, and furniture.

"Lois, what's going on?" Clark spoke up first. "I thought I said I didn't want you involved in this."

"You said you wanted me to stay home," she said with a slight quirk of her brow. He grimaced.

"Besides I think I have information that can help you," Lois said determinedly.

Clark looked at her confused and Lois for a moment looked downcast.

"I'm sorry, Clark, but ever since the attack on you, I started investigating Luthor. I found out about his stores of meteor rock. I noticed that most of his facilities were offline and I realized that Batman was probably the one behind it. Your call about Luthor taking Barbara clinched it."

"You know where his last store is," Bruce said

"I called my cousin and she sent me the data. Obviously he suspected that he was being watched because of all of the decommissioning of his stuff. But he didn't expect me or my cousin. The information you need was on his personal computer."

Everyone stared at her surprised. Lois was looking at Clark though, with apologetic eyes.

"How did you get this?" Bruce cut in.

"After Metallo, I got bolder. I assumed, but needed evidence of Luthor's involvement." She looked a little sheepish. "I may have broken into his office."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Clark asked unbelieving and angry. How could she put herself in danger like that?

"I thought you might stop me if I told you my plans," she said to Clark. She was right: he would have.

"Clark, I'm so sorry."

He wasn't looking at her. She had promised and she had lied.

"Show us what you've learned," Bruce said cutting into the increasingly personal discussion.

"I'm sending the data now."

Within seconds, several screens opened. Each outlining the details of every LexCorp facility they had decommissioned, including the fake one, but there was an extra one.

"These are detailed schematics of all LexCorp facilities," Bruce said in awe. "Why didn't you give us this before?"

"Had I known your plans I could have helped," she said with just a tiny bit of snark.

Clark looked away slightly ashamed. Here he was angry with her for keeping secrets when he had done exactly the same. He hadn't wanted her to worry; he had only wanted her to be safe. And she had wanted the exact same thing.

"Every single one of these we've already been to," Kassandra remarked impatiently.

Bruce clicked on one of the files labeled Project Titan.

"Except for this one," he said.

"That's the LexCorp building," Kassandra said in shock.

"With a underground floor that is lead-lined and spans the entire block."

"Of course he would hide it in his own building," Bruce glowered. "Thank you Miss Lane. Your services have been most valuable."

Clark stared at Lois a little mournfully before Bruce returned the Bat screen to normal. "You can fight about it later," he said while putting a hand on his shoulder. There was a flash of light next to them. They looked up in surprise to see Kassandra floating a little away from them, a yellow glow outlining her body.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asked a little sharply tinged with worry.

"This was my mistake. I let her get taken; I'm getting her back."

Clark flew up to meet her and stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder. "No, Kassandra. It's not safe to go alone. They know how to stop you."

"You too," she said vehemently.

"Then we go together," Bruce spoke from below them. "All three of us. As a team."

* * *

><p>Barbara woke up to a blinding light and for a moment thought it was <em><em>the <em>_light. But then her eyes adjusted and she was able to inspect herself. Her head was pounding, her body was sore and stung in places where she had healing cuts, nothing was broken, but judging from the dull pain in her back she was incredibly lucky and would only have some major bruising of her bones and muscles. That was the encouraging thought. However, she had no idea where she was and there were no clues to help her to determine her location.

Nondescript gave the room too much credit. It was metal and gray with no windows or tables, just a metal chair off to the side. The only interesting aspect of the entire situation was that she was tied to another metal chair. She didn't panic though. Instead she was annoyed because whoever had captured her had been thorough and had taken literally everything except her clothes including her mask. How courteous. It would have been nicer if they had given her a more comfortable chair, though. In vain she pulled at her bonds. They were made of nylon and she wasn't strong enough to break those nor could she shimmy out of them; her hands were a little numb from the compression. Whoever had bonded her hands and feet was a Boy Scout with a Pioneering merit badge.

Vaguely she wondered what time it was and where she was. Although the interior looked identical to where she was the last time she was conscious, she had a feeling she was in a different place. In the silence of that place she sat thinking and trying to determine a means of escape. It was hopeless to get out on her own though. She was effectively subdued. All she could do was wait for Batman or Superman or Solaris to come find her. If she lasted that long. She imagined she would be questioned severely and she didn't begrudge Luthor the sin of murder. She had very little time. If only she had some way to communicate with Bruce and the others-

Her earpiece! By God they hadn't found it! She needed to activate it. Unable to use her hands she bent her neck towards her shoulder trying to press it that way. Her neck couldn't bend far enough to place enough pressure on the device. She tried to lift her shoulder, but the ropes around her wrists were too tight. She bent her head to her shoulder, placed pressure, but she couldn't reach deep enough. Pushing harder and deeper until it hurt she heard a distinct high-pitched beep. Then there was a click from the door in front of her. Immediately she straightened and set her face to a glare. If they were going to break her, she wouldn't make it an easy task and she wouldn't give them any reason for confidence.

The heavy metal door swung open to reveal three rather beefy men in black gear: Kevlar vests, a large gun strapped to their sides, knives, a nightstick on the opposite side. They each walked to one wall of the room and stood at attention.

"Hello, ladies," she said. "Are you the entertainment?"

But there were more footsteps and finally there was the man behind all of this outlined in the door frame. Ice water filled her veins and fire filled her heart as she stared into the hard eyes of Lex Luthor.

She had seen him in person several times, but never this close. He was tall and of medium build, the light glistened off of his bald head. As he looked around he seemed very collected, but she could tell he was seething underneath. She supposed he didn't appreciate them trying to destroy the Kryptonite he had worked so hard to procure.

"Hello," he said politely, "I'm sorry about the accommodations. I've been meaning to upgrade them, but I've been busy."

Barbara shrugged or some facsimile of that which her current condition allowed. "I figured. Campaigning on top of illegal procurement of dangerous objects is time-consuming. Congratulations on the election by the way."

"Thank you." His congenial tone belied nothing of his true intentions, but Barbara knew they weren't good. They rarely were.

"You're welcome. I'm happy to say I didn't vote for you."

He shrugged a little. "That's alright. I won without it."

"Honestly, I was surprised you won at all," she said casually, but he seemed suddenly very interested.

"Oh? The people of this country want security and I am the best man to deliver that to them."

"I suppose. I just find it unusual for there to have been so many absentee ballots for one candidate."

Mild concern passed over his eyes for the briefest of moments.

"I didn't know."

"Considering the candidates in this election, I took it upon myself to monitor the votes cast." Again she made a shrug-like gesture. "I just think it's strange. Although I agree we need tighter security."

He shook his head a little. "If someone like you can hack into a national database, we definitely do."

"No I was thinking because apparently dead people are walking among us. Except they seem mostly interested in voting."

A queer smile spread across his face. "Well, that doesn't matter now does it?"

"It does a little bit," she deadpanned.

He chuckled heartily. "For someone in your situation, I'm a little surprised by your..."

"Pluck?"

"Cheekiness," he said over-enunciating the syllables.

Barbara nodded with an easy smile, but inside her heart was racing. "Well, no offence, but I've handled worse than you."

He smiled a little, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Do you know why you're here?"

She shook her head still with a smirk on her face. "I imagine because you're not a people person."

Although he smiled again, Barbara could tell she was wearing down his polite veneer. "No. You're here because you and your friend were attempting to destroy my property as well looking at private information."

Barbara's face dropped and he smirked. "Don't worry I destroyed it so you didn't do any damage. But don't you know that's against the law?"

"Why don't you call the cops then? Oh that's right. If you did, then everyone would know that you've been collecting certain unusual objects and not only would that connect you to a military investigation, it would also implicate you in the attempted murder of Superman and the attack on the Metropolis banquet. And if they start investigating you they just might discover some, uh, __unorthodox__ campaign methods. Also let's not forget that you're holding me against my will. That's what, like 40 charges?"

He gave a strained smile then shook his head. He sighed deeply as he turned away from her. As he stood he rubbed his face and seemed deep in thought.

"You're smart," he said but then he turned and although his face hadn't changed his eyes alerted her to an immediate danger as they grew more and more steely with each word. "But not smart enough. Did you really think that after all of the destruction of my facilities that I wouldn't set a trap?"

He leaned down close to her predatorially. "You miscalculated." It took all of her will to not lean back. She stared hard into those cold, dark eyes. "I caught the wrong mouse, but you'll do just fine."

He turned away from her again and took off his gloves. "You're a guest here because I want information."

"What makes you think I know anything? You said yourself I'm not that smart."

"Oh you don't need to be smart, you just need to be honest. I want to know who it is behind this operation and I want to know why," he said with a dangerous calm.

He stepped back in disgust and his nostrils flared. But then he did something unexpected. He closed his eyes, shook his head and turned away from her. "I understand. Your loyalty to him is admirable, but foolish."

With his back turned, she released the breath she had been holding and forced herself to remain strong.

"I can forgive you for thinking that," she said bitterly. "You don't know what loyalty is."

He frowned deeply. "Can't you see what I'm trying to do? I'm trying to protect everyone. I'm the most loyal!"

She looked at him with genuine confusion. "You want to __protect__ the world?"

"Yes," he said impatiently, "but you people keep standing in my way!"

"At the expense of everyone else's rights," she countered.

"In the pursuit of true justice sacrifices must be made," he said matter-of-factly.

"You're so full of shit. If you were really so righteous you'd be working with Batman and Superman! Not plotting against them," she said but he was shaking his head as she had spoken.

"I want to! Superman wouldn't listen to reason. I presented him with a great opportunity to fulfill his destiny, he was just too blinded by his morality and trust in humanity to see that power and control are the only ways to win this war. That is why with Batman, I plan to persuade him with more convincing __arguments__."

Her heart started beating rapidly. Was she a bargaining chip? It took all of her focus to not show her worry in her face.

"What do you want?" she asked slowly.

"I want to help," he said simply acting as though it should be obvious. He was frustrated and visibly agitated.

"You mean your leadership. We don't need", __nor want ,__"either," she said.

"Because you don't understand," he said growing more impatient and angry. "You can't save the world by gallavanting around as a vigilante. You need power and order. Rules and laws. Structure. People need to know their place in society in order for civilization to function."

"You speak so highly of the rules, yet you've broken so many," she quipped.

He turned to her with an unreadable look. "I make the rules, Batgirl."

"You're only a senator," she said confused.

He stared deeply into her eyes and spoke with a promise. "For now."

Barbara took a sharp intake of breath, but she said nothing and didn't reveal the panic and fear his words had created in her heart. How could two syllables be so threatening? When she looked up, he had his eyes closed and was breathing deeply.

"Now. No more games or distractions. I want to know the identity of whom you work for."

"Do you really think I'm going to just tell you?" she asked with her usual snark.

He sighed. "You're right."

Barbara's eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

Then a solid force slapped across her face, knocking the wind out of her and stars exploded in front of her eyes. Her face was throbbing and something warm and sticky dribbled down her cheek accompanied by her hot tears. Gasping she tried to regain her breath. But then he grabbed her face forcefully, being careful to push on the gash on her face. She whimpered. His eyes were hot coals of rage, but his voice was almost a growl as he spoke.

"Now who do you work for?"

"The Easter Bunny," she bit out.

He flicked a switch blade in front her causing her to jump a little. He deftly placed the blade on her face and took a deep breath.

"Maybe you misunderstood me. Stop playing games," He moved the blade closer to her eye until it was centimeters away. Barbara's body was stock still. One twitch and her eye was poached, "or I'll be forced to ruin those beautiful eyes."

For a few seconds he just stared at her and to her disgust lust passed over his eyes. She glared and he smiled.

"I need to know his real identity. Now I'm going to ask you one more time. Who is he? What is he planning?" he asked as he carefully traced the outline of her jaw with the knife.

"What makes you think it's a man? That's a little sexist," she ground out.

"We both know whom I'm talking about," he pushed the knife under her chin.

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. There was no detail about her that connected her to Batman. How could he possibly know?

"Don't look so surprised. I've been studying superheroes for years. I know your moves, your methods, and skills. Just because you're all grown up doesn't mean I don't recognize you Batgirl."

The only sign of fear she allowed herself was a slight widening of her eyes. How long-how could he have watched them? The Bat family lived in shadow.

"That's right. You may have disappeared for a while, but when my facilities were desecrated I knew it had to be you. Imagine my surprise when I found your friend. Or at least a part of her. That was all I needed to study her. To defeat her." He smirked.

Her fear was compounded by rage. "What did you do to my friend?" she growled.

That disgusting smirk grew more twisted and her ire increased in heat. "Exactly what I'm going to do to you if you don't cooperate. Now tell me. Who is Batman?" he asked emphasizing every word.

She shook her head slightly. He sighed dramatically obviously disappointed and seething with veiled anger. "Perhaps you just need time to think it over."

He signaled the guards and they flanked him. One of them opened the door. When he looked at her, it was as though he was sending icy dangers through her masked by an easy smile.

"I hope that you will come to my way of thinking. For your sake. And for the sake of your friends." Digging into his pocket he pulled out a translucent green bullet. She felt a tear fall down her cheek. Luthor turned to leave taking two of the guards with him.

The one that stayed smiled at her cruelly and she shuddered.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

To be so brazen as to hide a secret and damning facility underneath one's own office building, Lex Luthor was either brilliant or insane. High above, Clark hovered as he scanned the building for life and a confirmation of the schematics Lois had found. All the way down to the bottom he looked until he was stopped by what he assumed was lead shielding. Was that to keep him out or to keep something in?

_ Maybe both. _

This secret floor spanned at least two city blocks and he wondered how much Kryptonite was inside and shuddered. It was fortunate therefore that he hadn't travelled alone.

Painful static filled his ear and Clark groaned loudly. Irritably pressing the device in his ear he asked "Yes?"

Bruce's voice poured out of the earpiece. "Sorry. They're prototypes."

Clark hummed his slight annoyance.

"Solaris, have you found the Kryptonite?"

Kassandra's voice came loud and clear. "Yes."

"Then get to work. Superman?"

"Yes?"

"Do you see the guards in the building?"

Clark took a closer look at the guards walking inside the building and tried to scan their weapons.

"Yes, there aren't that many, but their guns appear to be lined with lead. I think they're armed with Kryptonite."

"Then the plan goes as follows, understand? You wait until my signal. No improvising," he said sternly.

With a little hesitation he answered. "Yes."

"Also from here on out we use only our code names on the comms."

Clark sighed exasperated. "I figured, Batman."

He would be watchful then. Clark took a deep breath. This was the moment where their trust was tested. With so much on the line, he prayed they passed.

* * *

><p>Batman stood on the roof of the Daily Planet scanning the building for entrance. Scaling a building was something that came naturally to him. If he ever entered a parkour tournament he would without contest win. The schematics Lois and her cousin had found showed that with the executive suite was a secret elevator. The inside of the room had no cameras. What kind of illicit business person would Lex be if there was evidence of his dealings. However the whole room was wired with motion detectors and other security measures that could only be disabled from within.<p>

He pulled out his double grapple gun and shot it out one end connecting to the Daily Planet roof and the other to the side of the LexCorp building and clipped the line to his harness. Zip-lining across the expanse, he landed lightly on the side of the building. To which he attached a laser glass cutter which etched a large circle. Using suction pads, he carefully pushed the glass segment in and lightly set it down, allowing him a wide enough space to enter the building. He was directly outside Luthor's office. A deceptively simple control pad hung next to his office door. Batman plugged into the device using his computer on his wrist. With relative ease he decoded the password and overcame the security measures to Luthor's office.

Although satisfaction would be the usual emotion, that was too easy for comfort. But they had to be there.

"You can come inside," Bruce spoke over the communicator.

Within seconds, Bruce felt a slight breeze as Superman zoomed in. When he looked up Clark had materialized in the elevator and Bruce wordlessly entered it. He pressed the only button on the control panel and waited as the elevator hummed.

He looked over at Clark. His hands twitching were the only sign that he was agitated. Bruce wondered if he hated going so slowly. In that moment he understood. Not only did he want to find Barbara quickly, he also didn't want to be alone with Clark.

Awkward was not the correct word to describe the atmosphere. Although they had decided to work together they were by no definition friends and they were allies only by common purpose. There was too much unresolved tension for them to truly work together, but they had had no time to clear the air. They certainly weren't going to do it there. Bruce told himself he was fine with the situation, but he couldn't completely ignore the guilt of being so wrong about Clark. Barbara had been right: he was a good man. But the other side of him, the one that was suspicious and hesitant with everyone and everything was holding him back. He needed to know unequivocably that Clark would never kill again.

The elevator mercifully stopped and when the doors opened Clark was the first out. Bruce was taken aback by his brash behavior, but then remembered that he probably had already scanned the area for guards. Surprisingly there were none. Bruce narrowed his eyes.

"Let's go find Barbara," Clark said.

"Wait." Bruce was studying a device on his wrist. The screen showed a wave of red emanating from an area to the southeast.

"There's an energy surge in the Southeast corner."

"Is it Kryptonite?" Clark asked urgently.

"No. It looks like something has been turned on." _Something very powerful. _

Clark nodded. "You find Barbara. I'll investigate that."

"Superman-"

"We can't waste time," he said in a commanding voice. "Whatever it is could harm you; I'm the sturdy one. If it's not Kryptonite, I'll be fine. Change of plans: find Barbara and get her to safety. Alert Solaris of the danger. If it gets worse, leave immediately."

Although slightly miffed by Clark's belief that he could order him around, he had a logical point he couldn't deny. "What about you?"

Clark shrugged with an easy smile. "I'll be fine." He disappeared with a _whoosh_.

He opened a separate channel through his wrist device. "Solaris?"

"Yes, Batman," she said quietly.

"There is an energy surge near you. Be careful," he said.

"Acknowledged...Do you still want me to...," asked her hesitant voice.

"Yes."

She sighed. "Batman, I don't think-"

"I am doing what is best for the planet. Trust me. He's not the only one."

"...Fine," she said a little bitterly. "Over and out."

Now to find Barbara. There was no way to track her. It also showed red dots meandering around the halls surrounding them. Clark easily sped by them, but Batman needed to _talk _with one of them. Silently he walked to the wall nearest the closest guard and waited from him to pass. With his back to him, Bruce snuck up, disarmed him, grabbed the man who immediately began to struggle with him and fought his way out of his grip. Fumbling for his gun, he searched desperately then looked up to find Batman smirking. The look of abject fear on the guard's face was almost comical as Batman grabbed him by his lapel and lifted him up the wall.

"Talk."

"What about?" the guard squealed.

"You know what," Bruce growled.

The guard whimpered. "She's in the north quadrant, the manufacturing area. There are two guards standing by her door. It's labelled storage."

"Thank you," he said as he struck him out cold.

Looking carefully around the corner he saw two guards.

Batman released anesthetic gas into the hallway. The guards quickly collapsed and after the gas had dispersed, Batman walked to the door. He picked the lock easily and opened the door. A swell of rage gripped him as he saw her there. Barbara was unconscious slumped down in her chair. Her wrists were purple probably from struggling. There was a gash across her left cheek and her lip was split open. Any other injuries she had Bruce couldn't assess, but he quickly went to work on her bonds. He had to be careful though. The rope had done enough damage to her wrists and ankles without him accidentally cutting her.

"Batman..." She breathed out. He looked up into her blurry eyes and smiled a little. Gently he touched the uninjured side of her face.

"Ssh. I'm going to get you out of here."

"Took you long enough," she said with a half-smile. Bruce chuckled. At least they hadn't damaged her spirit.

"Save your strength. You'll need it to get out." Still he felt guilty. He was the one who had dragged her back into all of this in the first place. With a snap the rope was cut and her left wrist was free.

"Are you alright?" he asked her tenderly.

She groaned a little and had her eyes shut. "Nothing I can't handle," she said with a strained smile and she leaned back. When she did he noticed that she had a bad bruise in the shape of a hand forming on her neck. He felt a rage within him that surpassed any he had felt before.

"Why did he do this?" he asked shakily.

"He tried to get me to tell him who you are."

"Why?"

"He said you were gonna get in his way. That he was trying to save the world. He wants to work with you."

Bruce looked up in surprise. Like he would ever work with Lex Luthor.

"I swear I didn't say anything," she said earnestly.

He smiled. "I never doubted you." He refocused on her other wrist. "I've almost got you out of here."

"Now all I want is to kick some ass," she said with renewing strength.

Bruce smirked. "You'll get your chance. But are you sure you're-"

"Br-Batman, I'm fine," she said firmly. Although he was proud of her resolve, he was also worried. Her other wrist was free and she rubbed them in obvious pain.

"I don't want you fighting." He freed her left ankle.

"Batman, I'm fine," she insisted.

"But-"

"You will not begrudge me the chance to help my friends." The last bond was off and she stood.

"What are you talking about? Solaris, Superman-"

"What?" she asked with sudden anxiety. "Superman is here? Where is he?"

"He's investigating an energy surge," Bruce said looking at her strangely.

Fear lit up her face. "You have to tell him to leave."

"Barbara, what happened?"

She swallowed. "He fashioned more Kryptonite bullets. Kal might be walking into a trap and Luthor..." Her face was a mask of frightened distress.

But Bruce didn't need her to finish. Lex Luthor was going to kill Superman.

"We have to help," Barbara said her eyes searching his.

Bruce pushed something into Barbara's hands. "You're gonna need these."

It was her belt and her mask. She looked up at him determinedly. Finally he had Batgirl back.

* * *

><p>It took only a few moments to reach the location of the energy surge, but there was no indication of anything that could have caused the blip on Batman's radar. The room was completely empty of anything strange. A mahogany wooden desk with a black leather chair on which sat a laptop. A matching leather couch lined the far wall with a glass coffee table. Opposite that was a small cabinet of alcohol. It seemed like a normal office. An office he assumed belonged to Luthor if the full-length portrait of himself gallantly holding the American flag behind the desk was any indication. Tacky, but not incriminating. Although nothing like the office upstairs it still emanated the cold, unwelcoming feeling as its counterpart. The walls however were strange. There appeared to be an opaque glass. Clark slid his hand over it.<p>

Then suddenly the walls turned a sickly bright green and Clark felt like he was hit by a train. The pain ripped through his body; he could no longer control his legs and he felt them fall underneath him. Groggily he saw the door was still open and with blurry eyes he crawled. But each movement was like fire inside of him. He clawed the floor and pulled himself closer, his joints crying out in protest, but he fought on. He was inches from the door when he saw a pair of Italian leather shoes blocking his path. With all of his strength he looked up to find the man who was the cause of all of this, smiling evilly obviously enjoying his torture.

"Hello, Superman," he said congenially. He spoke as though he was giving a tour to a guest. "I see you've notice that I've added some new amenities to my office." Clark shuddered and gasped while Luthor stepped over him. "More like safeguards really. In this dangerous world one can't be too careful."

Lex turned to him and Clark could barely make out his face, but he knew that he was smiling.

"What do you think? I rather like them. They're my design of course."

Anger surged through Clark. He wanted nothing more than to swipe that smile off of his face, but it was in vain. He could barely lift his head much less stand and even less look intimidating. "You were-" he choked out.

"Expecting you? Of course I was. It would be most unlike you and Batman to not rescue a friend." Luthor knelt until his face was a mere few inches away from Clark's.

"Look at you. How pathetic you are. A god brought down before a mortal," he said whispered. "It's poetic. You have all the power in the world, but a few moments in this room and you're on your knees begging for release."

Clark could no longer hold up his head. His body was weakening so quickly and he knew he was dying.

"Before you even think it; Batman isn't coming. Hell, I bet he's already dead."

Clark groaned as the worry gripped him. _No. Bruce wouldn't die so easily. _

"There is a way out of this though...it only takes one word."

Luthor looked at him significantly. Not having the strength anymore to form words, Clark let his eyes speak for him and put all of his rage that he could muster into his glare.

"I was worried you would say that." He sighed dramatically. "You leave me no other recourse Superman. But don't fret I won't let you die like this. Your demise is of special interest to me."

Clark willed himself to stay conscious as he watched Luthor press a few buttons on a remote. The wall bearing his portrait slid open to reveal a secret chamber. Standing in cold glory was a mechanical suit. It was svelte and was shaped exactly like Luthor.

"This is something I made just for you."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28 **

Supporting some of her weight she and Batman staggered out into the hall. They walked a few steps and Barbara took a few deep breaths. They were going to reach Clark in time. He was going to be fine. They were all going to be fine. Within seconds three guards lined each end.

"Hey!" one of them yelled. "If you surrender we won't hurt you." They both shared a look.

"Yeah, I'm not fighting," she said sarcastically as she pulled away from him into a fighting stance.

"Just don't overdo it," he said as he also stood ready to fight.

"Fine," she said quietly.

Simultaneously, they turned to opposite sides and shot out with their grappling guns connecting to the far walls. Stunned the guards were too late to react as she pulled herself forward and swipe the legs of the nearest one, which fell over like a bowling pin. Jumping up, she kicked the other guard in the head and immediately turned to the other one. A moment of shock stilled her when she realized that this was the same guard who had tortured her. He smirked as he raised his weapon. Furious she bent his gun away and twisted just a little more until he cried out in pain. He shot at the ceiling uselessly. Then she placed pressure around his wrist and finally he released his gun. She struck him in the chest and cuffed him in the face. He staggered back, but then charged at her with a shout going for a roundhouse she caught his arm and flipped him over. Landing hard on his back, she got on top of him and punched him fiercely in the face.

"Barbara!" Bruce cried his voice seemed far away as she stared at the face of her torturer. Then there was a piercing, stinging, deep rip into her flesh and Barbara cried out in pain. Turning she saw the guard she had kicked and he had stabbed with a knife sunk deep into her calf. Unnoticed by her Bruce had run over and punched the guard in the face crumpling him to the floor.

"Are you alright?" he asked placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked down at the bloodied face of the guard underneath her miserably.

"I'm fine," she said as she tried to stand.

"Wait," he said stopping her, "you can't walk on that leg like that." Pulling what looked like a small caulk gun out of his utility belt. "Synthetic protein. It should help." Slowly he removed the knife from her leg and she hissed in pain. They both shared a look and Barbara nodded. Bracing herself refusing to look, he injected the applicator into her wound, and she groaned loudly. Thankfully it lasted only a few seconds. Gingerly she placed weight on her leg, but she was amazed that she stood with stability.

"Thanks," she said and he nodded while he placed his hand to his ear. "Batman to Superman. Do you copy?"

"Do you copy?" he said again. "Kal?" He shook his head and cold dread filled Barbara.

"He still has his comm device, but he's not answering. Something's wrong. We need to track the device."

Through some gift of fate they didn't run into any more guards, but as the Clark's comm signal grew stronger and stronger, so did the feeling of unease in Barbara. Bruce was emanating heightened awareness. His muscles were tense as he moved, but he moved with purpose until they reached a spacious room. Robots stood like ancient guardians along the walls. Tall and lifeless, but ominous. They looked humanoid, except larger than the average human perhaps 7 ft. The forearms were a little wider in diameter than the upper arms. It was as though the robots were wearing meaty gauntlets. They were broad with expansive chests that displayed a clear glass circular center about the size of a grapefruit. There was nothing inside it. The 'face' of the robot wasn't a face at all. It was a dome with a metal back and a translucent front.

"What are these things?" Barbara asked out loud.

"Plan B," said a voice that sent involuntary chills up her spine. Stepping out of the shadows was a dark-haired woman with steel-cutting eyes.

"Hello, Batman, Batgirl," she said monotonously.

"So I presume this is Project Titan," Bruce said his eyes never leaving Mercy. "In case he can't recruit a powerful army with the Meta-Human Registration Act."

If Mercy was surprised she didn't show it. "Very good, Batman. Lex has big plans and he won't let something like politics get in the way," she replied.

"Oh politics aren't going to get in his way," Barbara practically growled.

She chuckled. "I'm begrudgingly impressed that you have come so far. But this is where your journey ends."

"You really think that," he said with a sneer at her, but he turned slightly to Barbara with a look that clearly said 'stay out of this.' She ignored him. She was injured, but she wouldn't let her friend fight alone.

"I know. You see where you draw the line at killing, I," she lifted up her right hand which splayed into robotic segments, revealing an unmistakably barrel shaped hole in the center of her 'hand', "do not."

A blast of energy exploded out of her palm, Batman and Barbara barely had time to dodge as they both jumped to separate sides of the room. Barbara smelled burnt fabric and was chilled at how close the laser had come to hitting them. Batman was undeterred; as soon as he was in a standing position he had thrown a batarang which Mercy shot with precision and disintegrated it. Batman threw down a smoke pellet.

"Your usual tricks won't work on me." She was scanning the area for Bruce allowing Barbara to sneak up from behind and climb a robot. Bracing her back against the wall, she pushed with all her strength against the giant until it started to fall. Unfortunately Mercy was fast and she was able to jump out of the way firing her hand laser repeatedly in Barbara's direction. Barbara did a back flip away grimacing with the pain from her leg and shot her grappling gun to the ceiling and landed away from the fray. Meanwhile Batman came up behind Mercy and tried to bring her down, but instead she flipped him over her back. He landed and started sending her a barrage of blows. She dodged and parried, until he sent a powerful kick to her stomach which caused her to stumble away. She came back with her cybernetic arm pushed him violently away, causing him to ram into the far wall.

"I thought you were supposed to be a master of hand-to-hand combat?" she said with a small sneer.

"I am," his lips quirked, "But sometimes it's nice to have friends."

Barbara had jumped from one of the robots and did a handstand on top of Mercy then spun away before Mercy could strike her, but not without leaving something behind.

"Do you really think that would defeat me?" she said her cold veneer never cracking as she walked menacingly toward Barbara, who looked with utter loathing at her.

"No," she said darkly as she reached for her utility belt. In surprise Mercy looked at her back. "But this will." And she pressed a button on her belt activating the charges. Mercy howled in pain as the electropads on her back sent streams of electricity throughout her body. Her back arched, her eyes grew wide. But after a few seconds, Barbara released the button and Mercy collapsed on the floor.

With an inscrutable gaze, Bruce looked up at Barbara who stared at him numbly as she walked over to the unconscious woman and checked her pulse.

Suddenly there was a thunderous rumble that made them both jump, thinking the robots were activating, but they remained motionless and lifeless.

"What the hell was that?" Barbara asked Bruce who got up quickly and said, "Superman."

* * *

><p>The weight of the radiation sat on him like gravity and Luthor drawled on.<p>

"Do you like it?" he asked as he pressed another button which opened the suit forward like it would press him in. There was a padded outline of a man's body that looked remarkably like Luthor's.

Clark groaned and panted through the pain that was eating away at him. Luthor smiled malevolently.

"I thought you would. I decided to protect myself from other super-powered people. For a while I was hoping that I wouldn't have to use this on you, but we both know I can't do that any more. If you had joined me, you would've been spared all of this. But no. You're far too _good_ for my kind of help. But I'm a reasonable man."

He smiled easily as he stepped into the suit. It closed around him. Stepping down from the pedestal, his footsteps were amazingly light. The stomps were obviously heavier, but not as one would expect from a metal suit. For a moment Clark thought that Luthor was just going to kill him, but instead he pressed something on the wall causing them to turn white again and Clark could breathe. His muscles still burning he very slowly got up, all the while his brain was screaming at him to fly. Luthor walked casually up to him as he painfully and finally returned to his feet. Clark quickly assessed his body. His strength hadn't fully returned yet, but he refused to relent and braced himself for whatever Luthor was going to send him.

"I'm going to offer you one last chance." Luthor stopped a foot in front of him. "Will you join me in protecting the world? In creating a perfect world?"

As firmly as he could, he said, "No."

He looked thoughtful. "Perhaps you need more persuasion."

There was a beat then his suit glowed in the core of it and shot out an energy blast that sent Superman careening back into the far wall. Coughing, Superman tried to stand, but Lex was already on to of him. The power of the suit allowed Lex to pin him to the ground.

"You need to understand something: no one turns me down. Not even a god."

Clark groaned and he spit up blood. Wiping his mouth, he said, "I'll never be what you want me to be."

With all of his might, Superman pushed himself off of the ground and flew straight threw the ceiling, through the concrete and glass of the building and up into the air. There were cries of surprise from the public below.

Clark spinned around and backhanded Luthor. He landed hard with a puff of dust and crumbling of brick in the alley next to the LexCorp building. Using his heat vision he tried to fry the mechanism, but Luthor dodged the beams from his eyes. Barely Clark grazed his leg. Luthor cried out in anger and jumped up to Clark with propulsion from his jet pack. Both grappling in the air, it was a whirl of flesh and robotic limbs until Luthor barreled him into the ground with a mighty double-footed kick.

"I offered you everything. I offered you a chance to make a _real_ difference. A chance to save this planet from itself and you spat in my face! I offered you power!" He punched him in the face.

"I offered you freedom!" He punched again, harder. Hard enough to make Clark taste blood.

"I offered you friendship!" He punched him a third time this time leaving a gash on his face. "Do you realize what we could have been together?!"

"I don't care!" he went for another strike, but Clark caught his fist and crushed the robotic hand twisted his arm and threw him into the side of the LexCorp plaza. He let the robotic hand fall limply to the ground as he landed away from Luthor.

"I will never ally myself with someone as despicable as you!"

Luthor stumbled out of the crater of the wall.

"If you won't join with me," he growled, "then I'll have to take the protection of this world into my own hands. And I will not let some romantic idealist stand in my way! You're too good to do all that is necessary for the sake of true security! Of true justice!"

With a cry and propelled by his suit Lex jumped with a surge of power and rammed into Superman trying to push him back, but he remained firm. Growling and yelling Clark activated his heat vision and landing a direct hit to the center of the suit.

All the while ignored by the two combatants, people started slowly peeking out of the shadows. It was late. They were murmuring and taking pictures.

His suit was sputtering and he could hardly stand. Superman was in no hurry as he walked menacingly toward the man whose only protection was slowly losing power. Luthor tried to blast him with another energy beam, but all it did was flash and die. He squirmed nervously in Superman's grasp.

"Now Superman. You wouldn't-" he gasped.

Ignoring him, Superman lifted him and posed to strike. This blow would end it. Luthor would no longer threaten the world. All the pain and suffering he had caused would be avenged. All of the travesties he was yet to induce would be prevented. All the sycophantic power mongering of his would end. If only he would do it.

The sun's rays glazed over the horizon and landed on Luthor and Superman, blinding him momentarily. When he opened his eyes, Luthor's face was replaced by Zod's.

"You decided whom you are going to be. Be that person. In your heart, you know what true justice is."

He blinked and Zod was gone replaced by Lex who was staring at him in abject fear. What was he doing? Gently Clark set him down. He wrapped a steel beam from the building's structure around his arm and welded it to the wall. Sirens wailed in the distance. The police would take care of Lex. Probably exhausted and dazed, Lex leaned on the wall looking at Clark. But his stare was utter disbelief.

"You're letting me live. Why?"

Clark could hear the sirens moving closer.

"Because I know what true justice is," he said calmly before he turned his back to him.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Batman and Barbara limping a short distance away as the police cars were within sight. They were both looking at him for an explanation, but he had none and didn't want to speak anyway. Lex was still conscious, but completely immobilized by both the steel beam and what could only be described as confusion.

"No." He heard Lex say.

A lot of things happened all at once.

He heard a gunshot. There was a searing pain that ripped clean through his arm. Losing his footing he fell on his knees and cried out in surprise and pain.

"Kal!" He heard Barbara strangled cry.

There was another gunshot and he prepared his body for the pain. But then it never came. When he opened his eyes Barbara lain on the ground; she was barely breathing and disturbingly still. In horror he stared at her as he could feel the warm stickiness of her blood on his hands.

"Barbara?" he whispered as he caressed her hair. An overwhelming rage filled him and he directed it at Lex Luthor with his heat vision. With a scream he dropped the searing gun and sat there whimpering, cradling his hand.

"Barbara?" he whispered again. She was alive, but barely. He scanned her body and what he saw...Clark choked back a sob.

He could hear Bruce walk over to Luthor. He heard a thump and a groan. When he looked up he barely registered Luthor's unconscious form and instead focused on Bruce.

"I need to -," Clark started despairingly, but Bruce only nodded looking just as aghast and angry.

Picking her up gently, Clark carefully flew away.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Green and white graphics flashed across the screen with the letters 'WBGS'. The scene parted to show two news anchors: a young blonde porcelain-skinned woman and a young dark-haired olive-skinned man.

"Hello welcome to WBGS news. I'm Tammy Skodack."

"And I'm Jeff Huang."

The camera focused on Tammy: "Our top story tonight is the aftermath of the battle between Lex Luthor and Superman. Sporting what appeared to be a mechanical suit Luthor was captured on cellphone footage fighting Superman in a super-charged battle royale culminating in a shot fired by the Senator and CEO."

The camera switched to Jeff: "Although the intended victim seems to have been Superman, an unknown vigilante took the bullet for him and was critically injured. No one knows the whereabouts of the young woman or what state she is in. After the astonishing display, Lex Luthor has been arrested for the attempted murder of Superman, assualt with a deadly weapon and destruction of property...," Jeff said until the scene changed to a talk show.

Four women sat on a couch having a discussion.

One of the women who had mocha skin and braided hair spoke, "Even if he hadn't been arrested, which he deserves to be arrested and put in jail for a long time! His Senate career was dead the moment he struck a blow against Superman and buried when he shot that kid..."

The scene changed again to two anchors one a brown-haired light-skinned man and the other a red-headed woman having a heated exchange.

"I think Lex Luthor is a hero. He fought Superman, who is a threat-" said the man.

"Lex Luthor endangered the public for his own gain! And he shot a kid!" shouted the woman.

"A vigilante!" he sneered.

"Still a kid! He deserves everything he gets...," she said heatedly.

The scene changed again to an anchorwoman with light brown skin and long black hair speaking.

"...The now disgraced Lex Luthor is facing even more repercussions than his damaged reputation. On top his assault and attempted murder charges new information from an anonymous source has been released regarding LexCorp activities including interference with a military operation and the illegal storage of what Superman has called Kryptonite. A radioactive substance from his home world that can harm him. There are also possible connections to the super-villain Metallo who attacked a Metropolis fundraiser in early November..."

The radio blared with the voice of a middle-aged man:

"...An anonymous source tipped off the FBI and now Lex Luthor is under investigation for federal election crimes. The charges of the accused are the buying of votes and the mailing of absentee ballots under the names of deceased people by his campaign staff. How these votes were even considered is curious and the FBI believes that Luthor may have bribed the check-in staff. The investigation is ongoing..."

* * *

><p>The golden sun cast its light on the barren field. The breeze was cool and dry. Nothing stirred as all the leaves on the trees were dead and the grass was brown and lifeless. But the cloudless sky was a radiant azure which was a stark backdrop for the red barn of the farm.<p>

He should be happy. Technically, they had won. Lex Luthor was probably going to jail, all the Kryptonite had been destroyed, and the Meta-Human Registration Act was effectively dead. It was over.

But he wasn't happy. And how could he be? Everyone had come out of it alive, but not whole. Bruce hadn't contacted him since...since the last time they saw each other and he didn't blame him. He hadn't talked to Kassandra either. Or...Barbara. Often he had flown to the hospital. High above he would watch over her. But he hadn't the strength or courage to make himself see her. To confront that kind of reality in the face of a friend...

He was scared. That she would be angry. That she would be devastated. Of course she was angry. It was selfish, but he didn't want her to be mad at him. He didn't want her to blame him. Because he blamed him. Not only for what he hadn't done, but for what he had stopped himself from doing.

Her heartbeat soothed him as she drew near, but he didn't turn. Once again someone was hurt because of him, he didn't deserve her consolation, so he said nothing. Neither did she. Instead she wrapped her arms around him and the comfort found him anyway. One of the wonderful things about Lois was her ability to reach into people and make them tell their secrets. One of the wonderful things about her was her ability to listen. And she didn't have to say anything. He could confess to her everything and she would still love him.

"I wanted to end it," he said and he felt her move her head. "For a moment. I thought about all the pain he had caused. All the pain he would cause. I thought that it would be the right thing to do. But then I realized who am I to decide who is beyond saving? I'm supposed to inspire humanity to believe that everyone has the capacity for good, but in order for that to happen I need to exemplify that hope. I need to be that hope."

"Clark, you've proven that so many times. That you faced your darkness and turned away, that shows you are that hope," she whispered as she squeezed him.

He turned in her arms to face her. "Zod was right. I did decide who I was that day."

Her eyes were sad. He remembered her face when he told her about his near-death experience with Zod. They had been a mixture of horrified and a deep mourning for him. Now although they were hesitant, they were filled with pride and affection.

"I'm the one who takes the right path, not the easy one."

She smiled and it was like the he was holding the sun. Lifting up to the top of her toes, she gave him a sweet kiss. And he inhaled deeply the scent of her.

"I'm sorry that I investigated Luthor behind your back," she whispered. She looked so ashamed.

Clark gave her an equally guilty look. "I'm sorry for not telling you about his facilities and what Bruce was planning. I was just trying to protect you."

"This is a very gift of the magi kind of moment." She chuckled.

He smiled briefly. "From now on, you know everything."

"Same," she said with tears in her eyes.

A companionable silence followed where they just held each other.

"Clark, I have to tell you something," she said with nervous eyes, but then she looked away for a moment.

Before she had even said it he knew.

"I need to go see her."

After all it was the right path and definitely not an easy one.

"Yes," she said looking a little sheepish, "but there's something else too."

Clark gave her a confused look and she smiled broadly.

* * *

><p>To think that she would never run or swim or dance or do anything like that again, was inconceivable. Nor did she <em>want<em> to think about it. Or listen to doctors telling her the probability of her recovery and the experimental treatments. Or to the therapist's promises that she would be able to live a normal life. That one day this would be natural. That she needed to talk about it. That she shouldn't ignore it. How was she ignoring anything? It was the constant topic of her mind. The only means of escape was sleep. In her dreams she could run.

She was running on a treadmill with her ear buds in; she was running in gym class with her friends; she was Batgirl and was running after a criminal down a dark alley. They were fighting and she was kicking and flipping and jumping. He stabbed her in the leg and she smiled at the pain.

The next morning she woke with the residual tingling of her dream. Gasping, for a moment she thought it was real. But looking down at her unmoving legs, she felt a sickening pressure of grief fill her chest pushing against her heart and lungs until she couldn't breathe. A whimper was all the sound she allowed herself to make. She needed a happier distraction. No tv. Too much pain there. Too many reminders of...moving.

She turned her eyes to the window to see dancing lights in the sky. The sun was shining brilliantly and yet it was snowing. What a rare and beautiful thing. It was so mesmerizing she almost forgot and almost didn't notice sitting below the window was the constant figure keeping vigil in her room.

It was Bruce. Disregarding the odd stares from the medical staff, he had perched in her room as often as he could. Offering comfort, deflecting the bullshit of the doctors and therapists. Being her guardian. Laughing at her dark jokes. But most of all he was just there. That was all that mattered.

They would talk about everything else. He would talk about the designs for his new much larger satellite. All of the people he had met to form the Justice League. He would talk about the people he had met at the various Christmas parties he had attended and he apologized for leaving her. It was unnecessary; he was there so often that he was practically a resident. He knew all the nurses' names, but for her sake, he had shed the farce of the player Bruce Wayne for his true self. Suddenly it was like all of those separated years and past hurts were forgotten.

At some point during her staring he had woken. Perhaps he had sensed her eyes on him. Did he ever sleep deeply? Probably not. He was always watchful even with his eyes closed. When they made eye contact, he smiled at her a little sadly and she knew that he knew. Of course he knew. She couldn't hide anything from him. There was no point in hiding anymore.

Her tears came fast and hot and immediately he came to her side, whispering to her comforts and words of affection.

Bruce held her gently while the snow fell softly outside.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: This is the last chapter! I want to say thanks to everyone who has read my story. Also I wanted to say to the one who wrote reviews that I appreciate every one of them. I loved that you liked the debate from chapter 14 and the way I demonstrated the different points of view in chapter 10. Also it made me laugh when you wrote that you liked Clark being smart. Thank you for sticking by this story. I'm going to write a sequel, so certain details will remain vague and be further explored in the next story. However, it will be a while before I publish it. **

**Chapter 30**

Hospitals had always produced a sense of dread in him. They were cool, sterile, and smelled of ammonia, which was unpleasant, but the atmosphere was not the only off-putting aspect. The space was too confined with too many people; he could fall victim to a perceptive mind. He realized that wherever he went he ran that risk, but this was a place of science where people went to be observed and people were paid to observe. But Clark had to be there. For too long, he had been stalling when it came to this particular task. Besides he would be around doctors more frequently now, so he thought he should grow accustomed to it.

Finally he reached her room, but his hand stopped a few centimeters from the door. What would he see? What would she say? Would she throw him out? Would she throw things at him? Clark shook his head. If she wanted to do any of those things she was justified. Still he stood outside the room. And focused on the flickering flourescent light. For Heaven's sake, he was Superman. He was brave. He fought fear with hope and strength. He _was_ hope. And he did what was right. He knocked.

"Come in," came her voice.

Standing in the doorway, he saw her. He wanted to say hello and not stare at her, but he couldn't help it. Her red hair was back in a tight ponytail, bespectacled, and in a wheelchair. There she was placing her shoes on her motionless feet. Carefully she pulled one leg toward her and leaned as far as she could while lifting her lifeless limb so she could place the toes inside the shoe. Releasing her leg, all of the weight of it forced her foot into the shoe. By pulling with one hand and pushing her foot with the other, she shimmied the shoe over her foot. The shoe nearly on, she lifted with one hand on the back of the shoe and pushed on her foot to finally shove it all the way in. Gently she placed her foot straight down, tied the shoe, and proceeded to the next foot. For what should be a simple task it seemed so laborious. A lump formed in Clark's throat and he looked away. He was the cause of her labor.

"Hey," she said gently. Looking up in surprise, he saw her face was lit up in delightful surprise. "I got your card and flowers, but I didn't expect..."

"Yeah. I'm sorry," he said awkwardly as he slowly walked into the room, "I wanted to come earlier, but I..."

She shook her head, dismissing his apology. "Yeah. It's okay. You're here now."

All he did was stare, not knowing what to say. She was staring at him too and she smiled a little sadly.

"Uh..How are you? I mean-" He grimaced once the words left his mouth. How are you? What kind of question was that? "I saw Bruce," he said lamely as he gestured out toward the hall.

"Yeah. I'm leaving today. Bruce is checking me out," she said as she reached for her other shoe, but Clark beat her to it.

"Oh you don't have to-"

"Yes, I do."

"I've got it."

"I want to." He looked at her intensely for a few moments before he dropped his eyes again and he sighed.

"How are you?" he whispered.

He heard her shrug. "I'm okay. It'll take some time to...adjust," she laughed weakly, "I mean if you thought this was difficult, you should've seen me get my pants on."

He looked up at her. Ever the sardonic woman, he saw the humor in her face, but it wasn't in her eyes. He didn't smile.

"Really? Nothing? I thought it was entertaining. They had to hoist me up using a harness and these two nurses were jamming my pants on my..," her voice died away when his face didn't change.

Instead, he focused on placing her shoe on her foot. He unfolded the tongue, guided her foot down, and pressed it against her heel. Slowly he tied the shoestrings. When he was finished he placed her foot back on the rest and stared at it. He could feel the heat in the corners of his eyes.

"Barbara-" he began his voice was breaking and he couldn't look her in the eyes.

"Clark-"

"I'm so sorry-"

"Clark, please-"

"I should've-"

"_Stop,_" she said placing her hands on his shoulders. They held each other's gaze for what seemed like an eternity.

"If I had moved faster-" he whispered in anguish and regret.

"Then you'd be dead and I'm sorry that I think your life is more valuable than my legs," she said with tears in her eyes.

"That doesn't change what happened."

"Clark," she sighed. "You can fly faster than a speeding bullet, lift a train over your head one-handed, and do so many other amazing things. But you're not infallible."

"I know." More than well aware of his weakness, he witnessed to what end his weakness had brought.

"No, you don't. You have such a good heart and you care so much. So much that every life, every task you see as a priority. That's a great asset. But that is also your greatest weakness."

He looked at her a little confused.

"You can't keep blaming yourself everytime you fail to save someone because you will fail sometimes. If you don't accept that, it will destroy you."

"I can't accept failure when it's my fault," he said vehemently.

She looked him straight in the eyes. "This was not your fault."

He began to protest, but she cut him off.

"It was not your fault! This was my choice."

It was his fault. She was protecting _him_. He could heal, but it was unlikely that she would ever recover and she took the fall for the bullet that was meant for him. He couldn't allow other people to do this. It was too dangerous. It was _his _responsibility.

"You almost died, Barbara."

She didn't say anything, but what her eyes said was clear. She would die for him.

"That's what being a team is: we risk our lives to protect each other in order to protect the world."

His life then was everything he had ever wanted. Friends, family. People to love. Lois and his Mom flashed through his mind, swirling with the fear of losing them because of who he was, of what he was. Maybe things were better when he was alone. No one was at risk. No one got hurt. He felt his shoulders slump a little at the terrible thoughts. He wasn't lonely anymore and he didn't want to be.

"I know what you're thinking. I've thought the same thing. Everyone would be better off if you made a fortress of solitude and cut yourself off for their own safety. And you know what? It is dangerous to love people when you're doing this job. Villains will use your heart against you, but your heart is what makes you a hero. You just don't think you deserve it. You do. And you need it because Clark, how are you going to save the world—how are any of us going to be able to do our jobs- if something doesn't bind us here? If something doesn't speak to our humanity? Everyone needs someone to go home to. Everyone needs a family. Even superheroes."

Clark was astounded. "It's not that. I love having a family now, but I don't think I should be a part of a team. No one else should fight my battles."

"It's too late. We're going to watch your back no matter what. We care about you. I'm afraid you'll have to live with that," she finished with a little smile.

Clark raised an eyebrow at her. There was one person he wasn't sure shared that sentiment.

"Yes, even him."

He nodded a little stunned and very moved by her kind and affectionate words.

"Now if you could escort me to the front desk I would like to get out of here."

He smiled a little as he pushed her out of her room. The guilt of what happened to Barbara still sat there. He doubted it would ever fully leave.

"What are you planning next?" he asked as they went down the hallway toward the elevator.

She seemed thoughtful. "I don't know. I was thinking about starting my own group. But I was leaning more towards a sorority than a fraternity."

"Really?" he asked as he pressed the button to the ground floor. How many super-heroes did she know to form her own group?

She shrugged. "Why not? I'm still kicking," she looked down at her legs, "...figuratively."

He sighed at her dark humor, but didn't make any mention of it. "What would you be doing?"

"There's more than one way to fight a battle, Clark." She raised her eyebrows conspiratorialy and Clark chuckled as the doors closed.

* * *

><p>The Daily Planet hummed with the same level of activity it always had on a Wednesday at 2:00 in the afternoon. Clark had been assigned a fluff piece for which he was grateful, but also a little confused. When given his assignment Perry hadn't seemed disappointed in his recent performance at the Planet, so it wasn't a punishment. In fact, he had looked concerned.<p>

He and Luthor had fought right next to the Daily Planet building. There had been so many pictures. Clark wondered what he had seen, but he wasn't worried. When it came to Perry White, if he knew anything, Clark was certain he could trust him.

Suddenly feeling the urge to move, Clark decided to get a coffee. Halfway to the break room, he stopped.

Having been moved to hang with its exalted brothers, people had full view of the first article about Superman. Every once and a while people would stop to look at them. For inspiration, for general reading. In that moment here was one person encapsulated by it, but it was last person Clark would have ever expected.

Catherine was staring mournfully at it. The aftermath of Luthor and Superman's fight seemed to have rattled her. But the extent of the damage, Clark did not know. All he knew is that she was considerably quieter around the office when it came to Superman. Suddenly not feeling very thirsty, he turned and bumped into Kassandra.

"Kassandra! Are you okay?" His concern was real. He hadn't anticipated her presence and so didn't have time to fall back and prevent her harm. But she laughed.

"I'm fine. Coffee?" she asked as she gestured toward the break room. Clark nodded and they wordlessly went inside. Kassandra started a fresh pot and while they waited they stood in a slight awkward silence. Clark smiled a little and then went back to staring at the table. When Kassandra spoke up he jumped a little.

"You sounded so surprised to see me."

"Well..I am. I thought that since...you know..." he whispered that part, but then continued speaking normally, "that you wouldn't be working here anymore. Not that I don't want you to work here! I just thought that your job was done."

One side of her mouth quirked upward. "It is. But I'm under contract; I can't just leave."

"Oh," Clark said dumbly.

"And I do need a day job."

"Right."

They both stood there in silence until the coffee maker signaled that it was done. Clark went to get a cup, but Kassandra hadn't moved from her spot. When he looked up she seemed anxious.

"Clark, I never got a chance to properly-"

Clark shook his head. "I know. I _was_ angry, but it's not like you had a choice. Still I wish you had said something. This would have been resolved a lot sooner."

She grimaced. "You had to figure it out because-well you already know Bruce's reasons. I hope we can move past this."

"You've already proven yourself. You kept my secret and helped me. Thank you," he said.

Although she smiled, it seemed a little sad. But the moment passed and while each prepared their coffee they stood in companionable silence. Walking out of the break room with her, Clark felt lighter and much more at ease.

"So what's new with you?" he asked stirring his coffee.

"Bruce offered me a position as legal representative and liason to the Justice League," she whispered.

"I didn't realize that the League would need that," Clark said slowly.

"If our organization is going to be legitimate we need to work with world governments. The United States is the first step."

"Well, congratulations!"

"Thank you!"

She was staring at him again and he read her mind.

"I haven't decided yet," he said almost apologetically.

She shook her with a smile. "I hope whatever your choice is you're happy with it. But remember, there's no deadline for membership," she said with a wink.

* * *

><p>It would be an understatement to have said this was an odd situation. Bruce Wayne was in his home sitting across from him and drinking his coffee. Far from star struck, Clark just felt strange to be amicably spending time with him. Bruce had called him a few days earlier asking if they could have a real conversation as most of their interaction of late had been a brief hello-goodbye at the hospital. Clark of course had accepted. They had much to discuss. But they had been sitting there for fifteen minutes doing nothing, but sipping coffee. Finally Bruce made a disgusted face as though he too realized how ridiculous they were being and spoke:<p>

"I'm sorry for spying on you."

Clark's eyebrows leaped into his hairline. He hadn't been expecting an apology. "Bruce, you don't have to-"

Bruce put up a hand. "No, I do. The battle with Zod was horrible and you caused a lot of damage because you were inexperienced and basically just sucked at the hero thing on a grand scale."

Clark frowned. "Thanks, Bruce."

"You were an unthinking, sloppy neophyte-"

"I appreciate it."

"-who stood very little chance against Zod and his highly trained military force-"

"I'm failing to see the apology," Clark said with mild annoyance.

"BUT you saved us. And you sacrificed something unimaginable to do it. In that moment for a heartbeat I believed in you. I had faith. Hope." He gestured to Clark's chest.

"You gave me that, Clark. But I can't walk by faith alone. So I watched you and I lied. I still think what I did was the logical step. But now I'm not so sure it was the right one."

"Thank you, Bruce."

A companionable silence followed. Clark was truly touched and he understood what it meant that Bruce opened up to him. Perhaps, someday they could be friends.

"Also I was impressed by how you discovered my identity. Knee replacement. Brilliant," he said as he took a casual sip of coffee.

"Well that and it stands to reason that Batman would have extra funds. What with all your toys. I looked into the expenditures of Wayne Enterprises and found some questionable accounting," he said with a quirked eyebrow.

"That's illegal."

He looked on unabashedly. "Turnabout's fair play. At least I didn't hack into a military satellite."

"We wouldn't have had to if mine wasn't knocked out of commission."

For the record, he felt guilty about that. "You're not gonna make me pay for that are you?"

"No, just place my new one in orbit," he said with a smirk.

Clark laughed although he wondered about this new satellite. There was a more important question he wanted to ask though. "I still don't understand something."

Bruce looked at him questioningly.

"Why the blackmail story with Barbara? Why discourage me from discovering your identity?"

"All of it was a test. I wanted to know more beyond your abilities and your skills. I wanted to know your character. How you would respond when someone was delving into your privacy, but there were extenuating circumstances. Your resolve in discovering the truth. Your confidence. Your morality. Your faith. I wanted to see it all. Barbara and Kassandra assisted me in that task."

"Is the testing over?"

He looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Any given by me."

Clark nodded somberly. The past few months had been filled with many great tasks for him. He imagined the future would be no different.

"Clark, why did you tell General Swanwick and the world about your weakness? That's an awfully big risk."

"Trusting usually is," he gave Bruce a knowing smile. "The world deserves to know as much truth about me as possible. Besides, all the Kryptonite is gone."

Bruce smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes and for some reason he wouldn't look at Clark. Bruce cleared his throat. "So are you sure you don't want to join? We could use a man like you."

Clark gave a sardonic smile. "Because I'm an asset in battle?"

"No." Bruce gave him an unreadable look that gave Clark pause. He wasn't sure what Bruce saw, but he knew that it moved him deeply.

"I've actually been thinking about that."

Bruce eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. Another odd occurence in a rare, sincere conversation. "You have?"

Clark nodded. "I've been thinking that I should consider being a part of something greater." There was one thing though that held him back.

"But only if it's based on trust this time."

Bruce smiled a little. "I was thinking of an...acquaintanceship."

Clark smiled broadly. An acquaintanceship he could be a part of, but then Clark remembered something. What did he say? We? Kassandra had decided to serve in a different capacity for the League and Barbara had big plans that Clark wasn't aware of. So...

"Who's 'we'?"

Bruce chuckled. "You have no idea."

* * *

><p>Clark opened his eyes.<p>

It was pitch black outside and Lois was fast asleep next to him. Lately, she had needed much more rest.

He couldn't have been asleep for long as it had been a busy night: two robberies, a mugging, and a fire. Something had woken him, but it hadn't been a cry for help.

To his sleep-addled brain, he didn't comprehend the beeping noise coming from his bedside table until he remembered his communicator. Carefully and quickly maneuvering out of bed, he grabbed it and pressed it into his ear to hear Bruce's voice.

"Batman to Justice League."

The past months had done a number on his ability to let go, to trust. Everything he had built had been shaken, but he had come out whole through this test only because of the people in his life. They made him stronger than he had ever been. Expanding his circle would not be easy, but it would be the right path. This was his purpose. His destiny.

"Superman here."


End file.
